Hot Pursuit
by girl in the glen
Summary: A long journey lay ahead for the men from UNCLE as they seek out a THRUSH Chief in Texas. This is part of the ABC Affair II on Section VII/Live Journal
1. Chapter 1: Austin, Texas

**Austin, Texas**

" _Austin?_ As in Texas?" Napoleon had hoped for someplace a little more… exotic. No, not exotic exactly, just… well, not Texas. Illya cut his partner a sideways roll of his eyes.

"Yes Mr. Solo, as in Texas. Do you have anything against Texas?" The Old Man was in a foul mood this morning, something that didn't happen on a regular basis and therefore made everyone cautious. Napoleon suddenly felt regret for having questioned the location of this mission.

"Uh, no, not really. I just, ummm… I don't think I've ever actually been to Austin, Texas. It is the capitol city I believe." It was the best he could do trying to sidestep a reprimand.

Alexander Waverly was annoyed with his people in Austin. The UNCLE operatives located there had apprehended a notorious and dangerous THRUSH agent, and immediately lost him as he was being transported back to their small office. It was a satellite really, nothing to compare to New York.

"We, and by we I do not mean anyone here…' He reached for a pipe, something to fiddle with and relieve his irritation. Waverly would eventually light his pipe, but continued at tamping it while Napoleon and Illya waited for their boss to continue.

"Two agents, Morse and Cunningham, somehow managed to find, detain and lose this man on the trip back to their office. He seems to have simply gotten out of the back seat of their vehicle while our two were discussing a football game. The discussion was, apparently, quite heated, allowing Darrow to slip away unnoticed."

Napoleon now shot a barely concealed smile to Illya, amusement at such an amateurish mistake by two obviously inexperienced agents made him glad to have gotten past those awkward years. On second thought, Napoleon couldn't recall ever being awkward at anything.

"And so… um, we are going to Austin to find this character? Why not … ' Napoleon stopped short of making another unwelcome comment. Waverly didn't look like he would suffer fools today.

"When do we leave sir?" Illya was going to save this one, Napoleon could owe him for it.

"You have a flight out of JFK in two hours. I suggest you cancel whatever other plans you might have and find yourselves some clothing more appropriate for the journey." That left both agents with puzzled expressions on their faces.

"We won't be wearing, um… I'm sorry sir, what exactly do you mean?" Napoleon was at a loss.

"I mean to say gentlemen, that the man you are being sent to apprehend is Buck Darrow, he has most probably fled to his family's ranch outside of Austin. He is a dangerous man, connected to THRUSH's drug operations running out of Mexico. Darrow is creating an empire in Texas, and the authorities there are as anxious as we are to apprehend him and shut down his organization. It was a stroke of dumb luck that Morse and Cunningham were able to nab him, and even dumber luck to lose him."

Napoleon's mind was busy trying to figure out a strategy for intercepting Darrow, short of a full frontal attack on the man's ranch. It was to be expected that his men would be fully armed.

"I am not being facetious when I say, go west young men, and be as inconspicuous as possible while there. Darrow will no doubt be expecting someone from UNCLE to come after him, and it is entirely possible that he will flee Texas and head to one of his other properties."

Illya drew a long breath. This might turn into a very long journey indeed.

" _Other_ properties, sir?" Perhaps _other_ didn't necessarily mean quite a lot.

"The man has a ranch or compound in nearly every state here in the US, and properties in Mexico and Europe. Darrow is wealthy, and I do mean by the most extreme standards he is well off. He has access to numerous bank accounts, holdings and defenses. You are tasked with finding him and bringing him back here, at the very least, ending his career." That last was an uncommon permission to use deadly force.

"You will have the UNCLE jet at your disposal, starting with the flight out of New York. Be careful, read the dossier on Buck Darrow and… I said be careful already, but I cannot stress to you how deadly this man is, and how far he will go to protect his empire. He is THRUSH, but more than that, he is his own man, intent on his own purposes.' Waverly set down the pipe, suddenly weary of it and the need to send his young men off on a mission fraught with untenable evils.

"That will be all." Napoleon and Illya stood up, aware of the unspoken caution still hanging over Waverly's head; the concern he felt for his two top agents.

"We will report in as soon as we touch down in Texas."

Waverly nodded, the dismissal complete.

Waverly's comment about the clothing had Napoleon slightly upended. He like wearing a suit, preferred it. Illya might get by in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, but the idea was slightly repugnant to UNCLE's best dressed agent.

"I don't think I need to wear anything so, so… " Napoleon squinted and made a face. He just couldn't see it.

The two partners were in the UNCLE wardrobe dressing rooms. Agatha Newberry had some clothing waiting for them when they arrived. Each of them was trying on some of the items chosen by Agatha, based on Waverly's recommendation.

"We're on assignment Napoleon. The dress code is western wear. I'm sure you can pull it off, in a sort of dandified manner." Illya had to smile at his partner's distress over clothing. He wasn't going to mind at all being casually attired, although a turtleneck seemed off the list of items he should wear in Texas.

"Dandy? That's how you think I'll look, like a dandy?' The American shrugged it off. "You're probably right." Surely even people in Texas knew how to dress properly.

Illya stepped out into the mirrored hallway to check the fit and the look of his new wardrobe. He had jeans at home, but these were embellished with UNCLE paraphernalia that would be useful. The top button on his jeans had a homing device that could be activated should it be necessary. there were exploding buttons on the western styled shirt, and a thin filament in the collar that would melt metal bars. It amazed him still that his wardrobe could be designed as an arsenal and still feel like normal clothing.

"You are a bit of a snob, aren't you? Texas isn't the hinterlands, Napoleon. Dallas is one of the most prosperous cities in America, and Austin is a university town. I hear the music scene there is quite on the cutting edge. I am looking forward to visiting there, perhaps after we locate Darrow."

"I think Darrow might be a tad more difficult to catch than just showing up and hauling him off the ranch. I've been checking his background and Mr. Waverly is correct in his description; the man is dangerous and ruthless.' He stepped out of his dressed room to check his image. Illya's jeans were different from his; they were tighter.

"I hope you have room for your Special tovarisch. Those Levi's look a little, um.. snug."

"It is what it is my friend." Agatha smiled, satisfied with her look for the Russian.

"I think I like this. Not too rustic, but slightly rugged." Napoleon was warming up to the idea of western wear, he just wasn't sure why they needed to dress like the locals.

Eight hours later the reasoning was clear. Austin was diverse, attracting students to the university from all over the country. But their destination was the Darrow ranch, and out in that part of the state how you dressed identified you as either a native or a trespasser.

The UNCLE agents arrived in an old Chevy pick up truck. Their cover, two drifters looking for work. Illya Kuryakin could speak a dozen different languages, appear in a myriad of disguises and mix with almost any type of society. What he had never mastered was an American accent. It came off unnatural and stiff. A southern drawl was slightly less awkward, so that was how he would speak. Napoleon needed no such accommodation, but played himself as an out of luck cowboy in search of a job.

They were met at the gate by two men dressed in similar clothing to their own. They were armed with rifles, not the standard THRUSH weapon but what looked to be Winchester 1892 repeating rifles. Illya had a revolver in his boot, while Napoleon had one inside his hat.

"This is private property fellas, you'll need to turn around and head back the way you came." The first man to speak to them was big, His hat pushed back to reveal a head of hair the color of chili pepper. There was a menace in the man's voice, and to most it would have been enough to influence an immediate retreat.

"Well hey, we're just looking' for work. We can ride, and do jobs around the ranch.' Napoleon looked earnest as he pled their case.

"We'd do just about anything to get a good meal and make a few dollars." Illya was slumped in the seat, his hat pulled over his eyes to avoid too much attention. It was a faint memory, but he thought he recognized the other man.

The man with the auburn hair pushed his hat back a little more, shot a look at the other fellow who nodded.

"Tell you what, we're a few men short up at the big house. I'm guessing this is a longshot, but do either of you have any education? There's a kid up there needs a tutor, and the man usually assigned is, um… gone. For good." That last sounded ominous, but Napoleon was quick with a comeback.

"You're in luck mister. As crazy as it sounds, my friend here isn't from around these parts. Neither one of us is, we just sort of ended up here, due to some unfortunate circumstances.' Napoleon was in full mode now, strategizing his way on a wing and a prayer.

"I call my friend the Professor, because that's what he used to be in the Old Country." Chili Pepper (in Napoleon's mind that was his name), looked suspicious.

"What are you talking about? He's a foreigner?" Napoleon nodded, grinning like the salesman he was.

"Yessiree, came here after he escaped from behind the Iron Curtain. He's got degrees from all over Europe. If you need a tutor for some kid, and I'm guessing it's your boss's kid, then the Professor here is the man you need. You'll probably get a raise for finding him."

It was quite a speech, and all the while Illya was shrinking back from being observed, hoping he was wrong about the other man who was now peering through the windshield to get a better look at this Professor character. Napoleon was truly describing him, maybe hoping that they could hide in plain sight.

"Let me talk to him.'' Chili Pepper walked around to Illya's side of the truck. At least there was no need for the fake southern drawl.

"Is that true, what your friend is telling' me?" Illya pushed back his hat to reveal the intense blue eyes for which he was both admired and feared.

"Yes, it is all true. My degrees are worthless in this country, and so I am riding, as you call it, shotgun here with my friend." He assumed an accent that was decidedly not Russian, but still indicated a location this individual might assume to be authentic.

Chili Pepper was weighing his options, Buck Darrow would do anything for that kid of his, and reward those who helped make her life better. He owed Darrow a lot, and delivering these two seemed the least he could do if they provided answers for his boss.

"Okay, I'm gonna give you two a chance. This here Professor better be what you say he is, and you …' He looked at Napoleon and assumed a threatening stance. "You better have something to make yourself valuable." Napoleon smiled back at the man.

"Oh, don't you worry about that. I'm a very valuable fellow. Very valuable indeed."

The gate swung open and Napoleon put the truck in gear, driving through it as Chili Pepper hopped into the back to accompany them up to the house owned by Buck Darrow.


	2. Chapter 2: Buda, Texas

According to the map, the twenty or so miles they had traveled from Austin had put Solo and Kuryakin in a place called Buda. As towns go, it seemed insignificant, and therefore a perfect hiding place for THRUSH activities.

The drive up to the Big House, as Chile Pepper had called it, was about a quarter of a mile. Napoleon navigated the dirt road easily, watching the countryside that was El Rancho Tordo slip past them in shades of green and blue, thanks to the wildflowers that were so abundant.

"You recognize the name of this ranch?" Illya was watching the passenger mirror for any sign of hostilities. Chile Pepper was reclining against the wheel well in the back of the truck.

"I saw the sign, why, what does it mean?" Napoleon was more concerned about what lay ahead of them than how Buck Darrow chose to identify his property.

" _El Rancho Tordo_ … The THRUSH Ranch. These people never tire of boasting about who they are." Silence permeated the cab of the truck for the rest of the drive towards their mission.

A pounding on the back window turned Illya's head. CP, as he was now referred to between the UNCLE agents, was pointing to what was most probably a bunkhouse. They were to pull in there rather than in front of the house.

Napoleon made the turn, easing in beside a yellow jeep. He turned off the ignition and shot Illya one last look before they exited the truck to face their guide.

"We'll walk up to the house. Mr. Darrow doesn't like us parking our vehicles up there.' CP jerked his head in the direction of the large Spanish styled house. It qualified as a hacienda, with an inner courtyard clearly visible as they approached.

"Wait here." They nodded their heads and watched as CP entered the courtyard through a large wrought iron gate with a bird impression on a large bronze medallion.

"Can we say _obvious_?" Illya was mentally prepared to assume the role his partner had spontaneously applied to him. As the Professor he could perhaps gain entrance to rooms in the house otherwise impenetrable to them as mere day laborers.

"Here he comes…" Napoleon straightened up and looked expectantly at CP. "We really need to find out what his actual name is." It was an afterthought, caring about a man's name. But it would be better than Chili Pepper, he was certain of that.

Illya decided to join in and act interested.

"What is your name? Do we even exchange such things here in Texas?" A foreigner with a distaste for the savagery of untamed lands. It was an identity he might pull of.

"Terrence Cayhill, but the boys call me TC." Napoleon was instantly amused that he had come so close to getting it right.

"And we are …" Cayhill looked amused now.

"Oh, we know who you are. Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin."

Dread plummeted into each of their stomachs, anger at having been so easily identified.

"Yeah, we've been on the look out for UNCLE agents, and you two were at the top of our list.' This was going to be unpleasant, and Illya knew instinctively that it would be particularly so for him.

"Get in here, and don't even think about trying something."

At that command there was the sound of guns being readied to shoot.


	3. Chapter 3: Cat Spring, Texas

Buck Darrow was a THRUSH captain of war, a veteran of several major operations in which the Hierarchy had gained control of power in obscure nations by means of military strength and, more often than not, blackmail. He was a big man, six foot four inches and athletic. He had married and divorced four times, finding most women untenable in his world of brut force and obsessive campaigns for dominance.

One of his marriages had produced a daughter, and this alone was the achilles heel to the man's entire being.

Samantha Darrow was a pretty girl, confident and intelligent. Being the kind of man he was, Buck had custody of Samantha rather than her mother, a Mexican National who lived comfortably apart from them; it seemed to indicate that he had no more need for her. For now it was a necessity to allow his daughter access to the woman only occasionally, and even then out of sight of spying eyes.

Buck was contemplating the current situation as the UNCLE agents were escorted into the large room that served as kitchen, a large table was set for a meal he was preparing at a six burner Wolf range. In contrast to his aggressive and deadly life within THRUSH, Darrow was protective of his daughter and maintained a life in this home as close to normal as possible.

"Gentlemen, please…' Buck indicated they should sit down at the table.

"Welcome to my home. We will have our meal before we discuss business. My daughter will be joining us, so I ask that we refrain from any … um, shall we say, hostilities. At this table we are simply business men, nothing more. _¿Lo entiendes?"_

"Si, entendemos." Illya was sitting, his expression like stone as he replied in Spanish. Napoleon was trying to figure out a way to get free of this situation when Samantha Darrow walked in.

"Hola papa.' She looked at the table, past Napoleon and Illya. "¿Quiénes son estos hombres?"

"English daughter, we have guests." Illya took the opportunity to impress a sense of commonality, perhaps gain sympathy from the girl.

"Me llamo es Illya, es un placer conocerte." Samantha Darrow smiled at the blond, appreciative of the excellent accent.

"Gracias. My father insists on English when we have company." She looked at her father and waited for introductions while she took her seat at the table.

"Mi hija, these gentlemen are going to be working for us, and Mr. Kuryakin is your new tutor." That brought a small smile to the girl's face, she would be pleased to spend time with Illya Kuryakin. He and Napoleon were shocked at this news, it was not how they had expected things to go here.

"You are a teacher, Mr. Kuryakin?" She wondered at his appearance; he didn't look like any of her other tutors.

"Yes, I … it seems that I am." Napoleon was at a loss. If this charade were being done for the girl's benefit, he wondered what was really in store for them.

"Your accent, is it British?" Sam, as she was called, was an excellent student with her sights on a prestigious academic career.

"It is. And, if you are wondering, I attended Cambridge and the Sorbonne. I assure you we will explore many facets of education together." He had to play this out, be valuable. But Darrow needed to understand that there would be no cooperation unless Napoleon was also treated well.

"My friend Napoleon and I have created a program for students whose schooling is private, so you will have a measure of instruction from him, under my supervision of course.'' That made Napoleon's face twitch.

"Of course." Darrow's acquiescence was immediate, with no sign of recognition that he had been given a condition. Illya's small smile was an indication to Darrow of the game they were about to play.

"So, my love, today we will be traveling to Cat Spring again, to check out that property I told you about. You and Mr. Kuryakin, and Mr. Solo, will gather together some of your books and we will take school on the road." Darrow finished his work at the stove and brought a steaming skillet of beef and vegetables to the table. Sam took the lid off of a ceramic crock, revealing a stack of steamed corn tortillas. Also on the table were bowls of condiments, fresh salsas and cheeses.

"Please, serve yourselves, but first…" Buck and Sam took each other's hand and bowed their heads.

 _"Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos_

 _Santificado sea tu Nombre_

 _Venga tu reino_

 _Hágase tu voluntad_

 _En la tierra como en el cielo_

 _Danos hoy el pan de este día_

 _y perdona nuestras deudas_

 _como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores_

 _y no nos dejes caer en al tentación_

 _sino que líbranos del malo._

 _Amen."_

If the UNCLE agents were shocked they didn't show it, merely added their amens to the prayer and proceeded to serve themselves from the abundance on the big table. Buck Darrow was no ordinary THRUSH.

There was no conversation while they ate save a few unremarkable comments and questions from Sam regarding the trip to Cat Spring. Once the meal was finished, Napoleon and Illya were escorted to a suite with adjoining bedrooms and a bathroom. This would be where they lived, at least for as long as Darrow intended to keep them alive.

"What do you think is in Cat Sprins?" Illya was dressed in black jeans and a pale blue shirt. Black cowboy boots completed the Western ensemble. Napoleon was given blue jeans and a red plaid shirt. It was a far cry from his usual attire, but it was crisp and neat, something he appreciated. His boots were brown, the wardrobe somehow representative of their different roles in this strange affair.

"I don't have a clue, I'm just glad you have those degrees and that Buck Darrow loves his daughter enough to hire you." Hire seemed incongruous to the situation, but at least they were still alive. A knock on the door preceded a voice on the other side.

"We're heading out gentlemen, please come downstairs." It was Darrow, and he was gathering his crew and his daughter for the journey to Cat Spring.

The trip took a little over two hours, traveling a two lane road from Buda to Cat Spring. The vehicle was a 1953 Buick Roadmaster Estate Wagon, the kind with the wood trim. Illya was fascinated with it, and impressed at how immaculate it was after twelve years. It was obvious that Darrow was a man of taste, that his habits were organized and demanding. The car was a perfect example of his attention to detail, perhaps a tendency to be obsessive about his possession.

Illya wondered if Sam was one of those possessions; perfect and priceless to a father intent on protecting her while providing the best he could offer, or usurp.

Terrence Cayhill was driving, Darrow in the passenger seat. Sam was seated behind Cayhill, in sight of her father's watchful eye; Illya sat between her and Napoleon.

"Where are we going first Papa?' Sam had napped during part of the trip, leaning her head against the window until the car hit a bump.

"Are we going to eat and sleep here again?" So this was a regular stop on Buck's itinerary.

"Ma hija, you like it here in Cat Spring? We will be staying with Frau Von Roeder, at her boarding house. You and Mr. Kuryakin will have time for lessons while TC and I take care of some business. Mr. Solo can come with us, so he doesn't get bored." There was not a hint of whimsy or malice in his voice. This man was a complete mystery to Napoleon, he just couldn't get a handle on him.

"Mr. Kuryakin, you will perhaps enjoy speaking with Frau Von Roeder, she still enjoys the language of her heritage, as do many here in the Hill Country." Illya merely nodded, wondering just how much Buck Darrow knew about him, and why he was willing to trust him with his daughter.

The Roadmaster traveled through and out of town, turning down a lane bordered with fields of bluebells on either side. The sight of it was captivating, taking Illya back to his youth and the open fields where he and his family used to picnic in the summer. So many years ago, so many lost souls.

"Ah, here we are. Look mi hija, Frau Von Roeder is waiting for us, for you." The Roadmaster's tires crunched on gravel as it pulled up in front of a big white house. The woman on the porch looked to be about fifty, maybe a little older. Her clothing was simple; a denim skirt that stopped just short of the black shoes she wore, and a calico blouse trimmed in a small band of yellow ric rac.

" _Hallo, hallo!_ " The greeting was exuberant, and Sam was out of the car and into the woman's arms in an instant. She greeted Darrow with the same warmth as the three of them exchanged kisses and hugs. TC held the door open for Illya and Napoleon to get out of the car, indicating they should follow Darrow into the house.

Once inside introductions were made.

"Frau Von Roeder, this is Illya Kuryakin, Samantha's new tutor. And this is his friend Napoleon Solo. He will be helping out on the ranch as well."

Napoleon extended his hand but was too late to intercept the woman as Illya took her hand and kissed it, expressing his gratitude in perfectly accented German. Ingratiating himself into this woman's good graces shouldn't be too difficult. Napoleon watched and then, on cue, gave her a million megawatt smile that made her blush.

Cat Spring was looking pretty good.


	4. Chapter 4: Denison, Texas

Napoleon, along with Cayhill and Darrow, got back into the Roadmaster and returned to Cat Spring to broker the land deal for which he had made the journey. Cayhill pulled up in front of a small business and stopped.

"Here we are Mr. Darrow." There was a level of politeness between these two not normally present in THRUSH relationships. Napoleon continued to be perplexed by them, by the situation and the happenstance of making Illya a tutor.

"Would it be inappropriate for me to ask what we're doing here?" It was, but Darrow's reply was, as has been cited, polite.

"Well Mr. Solo, I hardly think it is of interest to you, or to UNCLE for that matter. It is a purely personal venture of mine.' Buck hesitated before continuing.

"I am buying a piece of land in Cat Spring that will be the site of a new school for gifted children. There is not currently a program for the very bright students in this region, and I hope to establish a place for them to excel and gain preparation for a higher education."

Napoleon smiled, unable to find words that would neither offend nor congratulate this man from the world's most dangerous entity.

"You find it incompatible with what you know about me. I understand. I live in two worlds, Napoleon. One of them belongs to THRUSH, the other to me alone, and those whom I love and wish to serve." If Napoleon had been hit with a pie in the face he couldn't have been more surprised than he was with the words spoken by Buck Darrow.

"That is… hmmm… I am at a loss for words. You certainly do not conform to the usual profile." It was the best he could do.

"You mean for someone who works for THRUSH?" Darrow understood the conundrum, he lived it every day of his life. Napoleon smiled, shaking his head at the dichotomy being presented to him in the person of Buck Darrow.

"Yes, I suppose I do. Why? What does THRUSH offer you that you can't refuse, given your devotion to your child and, apparently, causes of some merit?" He couldn't let himself get pulled into this man's world. His assignment was to bring in Darrow and dismantle his organization.

Cayhill had rolled down the windows, letting in a whiff of air redundant with the wildflowers that seemed to be everywhere. Napoleon took note of a trio of boys on bicycles coming towards them, wondering if any of them would attend Darrow's new school.

"I need to get inside to my appointment. You two can stay here, the weather is nice enough and it is a beautiful day here in Cat Spring." Darrow got out of the car and headed into the real estate office, leaving Napoleon and Terrence Cayhill alone in the car.

"Don't judge Mr. Darrow on his THRUSH activities alone, Mr. Solo. He's a good man, and he takes care of people." Cayhill was obviously devoted to his boss, but not in that typical THRUSH manner of obsessive, deranged devotion.

"I can't ignore it. I … ' Napoleon didn't know what to say. He was still at the mercy of the man, although he didn't feel threatened in any way. He wondered how Illya and Sam were doing.

"I seem to be just along for the ride, for the time being." Cayhill nodded, then turned around in his seat to wait for Buck Darrow to return.

Frau Von Roeder was preparing the evening meal so that it would be ready when Mr. Darrow and his friends returned. She had escorted Samantha and her tutor, Herr Kuryakin, to the little study she kept ready for these visits. She and the blond conversed at length for several minutes after the others left for town; she enjoyed him for the sake of that, and was hopeful of seeing him often. Although born here in Texas, she had been raised by German speaking parents, and missed the sound of the language, and the familiarity of it now that they were gone. Herr Kuryakin, being fluent in German, refreshed her memory of those times when the house had been full of people, words flying through the rooms like birds in the air.

Illya and Samantha were deep into a study of Texas state history. Being himself not completely familiar with the topic, he was finding it an interesting foray into the state's wild and dramatic history. Samantha seemed full of trivial information about her home state.

"Did you know that President Johnson's father was born in Buda?' Illya shook his head while Sam kept going.

"And Frau Von Roedel's great-great-great… I forget how many greats; anyway, her family were the first people to live here in Cat Spring. And one of her relatives killed a puma, which is how the town got its name." She smiled at the end of her recitation of little known facts. She liked history, and people. She liked Mr. Kuryakin.

"You have an excellent memory Sam, and those are interesting tidbits of information." If Illya had to spend time under THRUSH detention, this was by far the best scenario he could imagine.

The aromas coming from the kitchen began to waft through the rooms, find their way to the study. Illya heard and felt his stomach growling, something that made Sam giggle.

"Haben sie Hunger?" It was Frau Von Roeder, and she seemed to be carrying the full strength of the mouth watering aromas in her large apron. She smiled a big toothy grin at the two young people, she was so delighted to have them here.

''Your papa and his friends are back from town, and supper is on the table. Go now, wash up and we will eat." Illya was more than ready, breakfast had been several hours past and they had missed lunch. "You are most kind, danke." She curtsied in reply, something that caught Samantha's eye and imagination.

Napoleon was first through the door, followed by Cayhill and then Darrow. Each of them was instructed to go and wash up before sitting at the big table. No one objected, each one did as he was told.

The routine of prayer was repeated here, just like at the house in Buda. This time it was recited in German, out of respect for their hostess. As the amens resounded around the table, the clatter of dishes and silverware filled the room as each one was passed a different platter or bowl.

"Ah, Frau Von Roeder, this is a beautiful meal, my favorites." Buck Darrow seemed truly pleased, and the woman received his praise with a smile and a slight blush. She had a great regard for this man, and loved the girl as though she were a granddaughter to the childless woman. These visits were one of the delights of her life.

"I haven't had Rouladen since I was last in Germany. This is delicious." Illya was impressed and grateful for a meal like this. The thinly sliced beef was wrapped around cooked pork belly, chopped onions and chopped pickles, smothered in a red wine sauce. Potato dumplings and coleslaw completed the dish, all of which he consumed before accepting a second helping.

The others ate as heartily as the Russian, making the lady of the house more pleased than she could have imagined. The dessert was no less delicious; Bienenstich, or Bee Sting Cake. The top was brushed with honey to create a crisp and sweet top to a brioche like cake filled with vanilla pudding. When they pushed away from the table it was with the satisfaction that only comes from having partaken of an excellent meal.

"Gentlemen, we are going to be traveling north tomorrow, up to Denison." Buck made the announcement as though each of them should have expected to continue this road trip. Only Illya and Napoleon were surprised by it, each of them still wondering when the proverbial shoe would drop, most probably on their heads.

"May I inquire as to what we will be doing in Denison?" Napoleon felt as though he could ask, so far there had been no repercussions to his inquiries.

"Well… ' Buck thought about it, deciding he might as well tell them.

"We have a project in Denison, well…' His face lit up with a smile, anticipating one of his favorite topics.

"More than a project really, we have winery in Denison. Five hundred acres of land, some of the finest vineyards in the United States. We're going to visit Denison and see to some of the business there."

So, another big surprise for the UNCLE agents, and the prospect of what would most likely turn out to be a pleasant stay in a Texas vineyard that produced, no doubt, world class wines.

"I look forward to it. And,' Illya looked at Sam and smiled,

"I suspect that Samantha will have more interesting facts to share with me about Denison." That made the girl blush a little, but her father seemed pleased. This was turning out better than he had hoped.

The night was spent in comfort beneath down filled comforters and finely crafted quilts. In the morning the entourage was on the road by seven, a basketful of pastries and fruit for the journey. It would be empty by the end of the five hour journey, as indication of the increasing sense of camaraderie inside the beautiful Roadmaster.

Denison, Texas was totally unexpected, a pleasant surprise to the two men in the second seat. The undulating hillsides were covered in vines ready to yield a crop of premium grapes for Darrow's winery. They went first to the main building, a low slung structure with a porch that fronted the entire fifty foot expanse of it. It was deep enough for tables and benches, and as the car pulled into a space beneath a towering oak tree, it was easy to see that some of the tables had been set with brightly colored plates and linens. As if on cue, several women started bringing out bowls and platters of food; a black man dressed in white carried a large galvanized bucket that would prove to hold several bottles of wine.

"Gentlemen, this is Darrow Cellars Winery.' He stretched his arms out to indicate the expanse of his holdings here, the heart of his empire.

"And this is my chef, Henri Aime´. He is Cajun, and his food is going to change your world." He slapped the chef on the back at which they both broke out in laughter. The affection between them was obvious, as well as a mutual respect that seemed to reflect their successes here at the winery.

"I have added plans for a restaurant in the near future, something to make this winery a destination. I think I am probably ahead of the times at this point, but then I never want to be the last to do a great thing, eh. Our master vintner, Alec Deneuve, is in Dallas and won't be returning until tomorrow. You will meet then."

Everyone went inside to wash up and take care of whatever needs were calling. Afterwards they all assembled outside on the porch, and sat down to the meal prepared for them by Chef Henri.

Sam was used to this, and she loved it here in Denison. It was, perhaps, her favorite stop on these little road trips she often took with her father.

"Okay Mr. Kuryakin, what do you know about Denison?" She was proud of her ability to list off the attributes of her home state, and she especially enjoyed stumping the blond who seemed to know very little about it.

"I am waiting for you to tell me, since I can see you want to." She was no doubt smitten with him, the blue eyes and the shaggy blond hair. He seemed younger than his friend, more approachable. She had a feeling Mr. Solo was dangerous when he needed to be.

"Okay, here goes. First of all, President Dwight D. Eisenhower was born here. I bet you didn't know that one!" Everyone at the table laughed at her as Illya feigned real surprise. He did know that bit of trivia, but he wouldn't deprive her of the joy of thinking he did not.

"And, sitting here in Papa's winery, it is important to know that horticulturalist T.V. Munson made grapes able to grow without, um…' Sam look at her father as he mouthed a word.  
"Phy-llox-era.. and was inducted into the French Legion of Honor for saving the grapes in Europe. Did you know that?"

"Once again you have outwitted me. Today you get an A for all subjects." Illya winked at her and her stomach felt like a thousand butterflies were inside of it.

The meal was once again served family style, with each bowl and platter being passed around. It was a Cajun meal, spicy and redolent with flavor. A richly seasoned Boudoin was the entree, a handmade sausage filled with pork, rice, peppers and onions. Also on the table were large platters of corn on the cob and fried okra, and a large tureen filled with a luxuriously rich turtle soup.

As before, the start of the meal included prayer, this time in French. The amens were becoming less awkward for the two men from UNCLE, their anticipation of the meal more like what they might expect among friends.

Chef Henri sat down next to his mentor and boss, eventually becoming engrossed in a conversation with Illya as the two launched into French. The entire table was in conversation, the mood almost like a celebration.

Denison was proving to be a very enjoyable stop on this very unexpected journey.


	5. Chapter 5: El Paso, Texas

The sound of a bell ringing, what was often referred to as a dinner bell, was what awoke the UNCLE agents on their second day in Denison. The evening prior had been pleasant, with a late night supper in an area of the vineyards that was cleared and set up as an outdoor dining room. Decorative lanterns had been hung on tall shepherd's hooks, and luminaries were set on the pathway that led from the main building out to the clearing where two tables held an abundance of food and wine. Thinking back on it this morning, Illya especially was in awe of the scene; it was like something out of a movie.

"Up and at 'em, my friend. Our host is calling." Napoleon had enjoyed the evening, his suspicions about Buck Darrow aside, the man knew how to be a gracious and generous host. Whatever this was that they were doing, it didn't offend him in the least to not be chained to a wall or hung up while someone beat him to unconsciousness.

"Do you know what the travel plans are today?" Illya was still carving out time for his tutoring duties, and his enjoyment of it fed into his natural inclination to enlighten, or educate, depending on how one looked at things.

The two men showered and dressed quickly, not wanting to keep breakfast waiting. Their wardrobes had been amended to include clothing other than the Western attire, although Illya found himself once more in jeans and a plaid shirt with the signature pearl capped buttons.

The porch was once again set up for a meal, and the mounds of food indicated yet another satisfying sojourn at the man's table. Illya sat down and looked greedily at the selection of food; eggs and bacon, sausage and biscuits and, as a nod to the chef's Louisiana origins, a basketful of bignettes. A large bowl full of grits was intended to be served with the warm syrup, and a stack of pancakes proved that it was impossible to have too many choices.

As was the habit before every meal, a prayer was shared and amens uttered before launching into the food. It was congenial, the day was beautiful as the diners looked out of a verdant expanse of vineyards spring up in the graceful hills. This experience was unlike anything either of the men from UNCLE had encountered previously.

After the breakfast dishes had been cleared Buck announced that he and TC, and Napoleon, would be flying down to El Paso for the day.

"Papa, you aren't taking me, or Mr. Kuryakin?" Samantha loved these trips with her father, but she knew sometimes his business meant she would not be able to accompany him. This must be one of those times.

"No mi hija, you need to stay and attend to your studies. We won't be too long, I promise, and tomorrow we will all go together to our next destination. Es verdad." Buck Darrow would do anything for his daughter, pay any price, sacrifice all that he possessed. She was his life, and he knew that in itself might someday be his demise.

Napoleon wondered why he was accompanying Buck and TC, but then he realized it would serve to keep him and Illya in check if they were separated and still under the watch of Buck's men.

"What sort of business, or is that need to know information?" At this point Napoleon felt like he could ask or say just about anything. There seemed to be nothing that rattled Buck, or gave him cause to worry.

"Ah, you are still curious are you not? Don't worry, soon enough you will understand and, perhaps, not think so badly of me.' He looked around and located Terrence Cayhill, who gave him a signal as if to say all was ready.

"We're ready to take off, the plane is at a small airfield just up the road from here." He got up out of his chair, as did Napoleon, and the two walked to the Roadmaster where TC was already behind the wheel.

"Adios papa! Will you bring me something from El Paso?" Samantha had a grin on her face, she knew there would be presents upon her father's return.

"So, what will we study today?" Illya thought it would be a long day for him as he awaited his partner's return.

The sight of the Learjet 23 made Napoleon catch his breath. It was a beauty, and not more than a year old most likely. The trio of men got out of the car and headed for the jet, climbing up the short set of steps and crouching low to get into the low slung interior. It was cramped, just 4ft 11in wide and 4ft 4in, but complete with leather sofa and minibar.

TC went forward and sat with the pilot, a man Buck was quick to explain had exceptional skills and was one of the most highly trained Lear jet pilots.

They settled in, speaking little until the sleek aircraft was in the sky and on its way to El Paso. They would be in the air about ninety minutes, during which the conversation turned to the obvious: Why THRUSH?

"Napoleon, not everything is as it seems. I understand your organization sees me and assumes my role within THRUSH is a matter of record, but … ' Darrow hesitated as he considered the risks involved with telling this man just who and what he was.

"The drug cartel, the affiliation with drug runners and, of course, THRUSH… I cannot tell you everything, but I want you to know that there are other factors to which you and UNCLE are unaware." It was not specific, just an allusion to something mysterious.

"That doesn't help me understand your association with a murderous organization like THRUSH. I see you with Samantha, and the projects your oversee, and there is a disconnect between what I've read about you and who you appear to be, based on these past few days. Help me to understand, be honest with me." Napoleon knew there was a story here, and it wasn't what the file on Buck Darrow told him. Something else was at work here.

Before they could finish this line of talk the pilot was announcing their descent into El Paso. They were landing at a private airfield where a car was waiting for them. It was a warm day, typical of the region. As they got into the car Napoleon felt the prick of a needle in his hand, and before he could utter a complaint the day morphed into darkness.


	6. Chapter 6: Frisco, Texas

Unaware of what was transpiring in El Paso, Illya and Samantha spent the morning going over some history and language courses, finally breaking for lunch at noon. It was a pretty day, with temperatures in the mid seventies; it was too nice to stay indoors and both of them were wishing for something more to do than hit the books again.

"I think we should go to Frisco." Samantha looked pleased with her suggestion, fully expecting Illya to go along with it.

"What is Frisco? And why should we go there?" In truth, Illya would be glad for an excursion away from this place, idyllic as it seemed. He wished to get away from … he wasn't sure. No one seemed to watching them, but a day out and free of encumbrances, even imagined ones, would be a respite of sorts.

"It's about an hour south of here, near Dallas. There's a very nice little downtown with shops and places to eat. If we go now we could have lunch there, and maybe look in some shops…'' She let that trail off. She seemed to be very familiar with Frisco.

"Do you think it would be all right? With you father, I mean. How would we go there, they took the car this morning." Illya liked the sound of an outing, he was restless for some reason. Perhaps being treated well was getting on his nerves, it was so unusual.

Samantha decided to go find Chef Henri and ask him about taking a ride to Frisco. Perhaps he would want to go, there might be something he needed or wanted in that town.

Within a few minutes she was back with Henri at her side. He was dressed in blue slacks and a black polo shirt, obviously not tied to the western theme preferred by Buck.

"Miss Samantha says we're taking a ride down to Frisco. I think it is a perfect day for it, and Mr. Darrow lets her do this as long as I go with her. Is that agreeable to you Mr. Kuryakin?" Was he asking his permission? Illya was dumbfounded by this entire arrangement, but he wasn't going to object.

"It sounds fine to me, do you have a car?" Henri nodded, producing a set of keys.

"But of course, we will take the Winery van, it is very comfortable." Of course, there was nothing uncomfortable anywhere within Buck Darrow's world.

"Very well, shall we get on the road? I for one will be ready for lunch by the time we get there." Sam was all smiles, she had two of her favorite people and she was going to one of her favorite places. She hoped that Mr. Kuryakin, Illya, would never leave her.

"Yay, we're off to Frisco!"

And so they were.


	7. Chapter 7: Galveston, Texas

Napoleon awoke from the drug induced nap like a cat waking up from a nap. He stretched and yawned, the luxurious feel of an ocean breeze carrying the tangy smell of salt water.

Then it hit him. He'd been drugged, and he was positive he was no longer in El Paso.

''Good evening Napoleon, I hope you rested well." Buck Darrow was seated in a large white rocking chair a few feet from the chaise lounge on which Napoleon was still partially reclined.

"I, uhh…' Napoleon did feel refreshed. And being nearly on the ocean made for the best sort of evening.

''Yes, thank you. But, why did you drug me? Was there something you didn't want me to observe back there?" Buck smiled, he liked this man. He liked both of his UNCLE agents, not that they were truly his.

"You may have difficulty believing me, but I mean you no harm. And you won't be in any danger as long as you are my guest. That goes for Mr. Kuryakin, Illya, as well." He looked out over the balcony of the elegant pole house, the unique design common to this part of the Gulf Coast.

Buck Darrow had debated, first with himself and then with Terrence Cayhill, about filling in the details for Solo and Kuryakin. He knew why they had come after him, and the unfortunate orders they most likely had in order to apprehend of stop him completely.

"Are you an open minded man, Napoleon?" He was willing to risk exposure to Solo and Kuryakin, based on their reputations as honest and worthy of their word.

Napoleon's expression reflected his curiosity, if not a measure of confusion. Open minded…

"I believe I am. In this line of work, well, not everything is cut and dried." He meant it, black and white applied to some things; good and evil for instance.

"Good, that's good. I have a story to tell you."


	8. Chapter 8: Houston, Texas

Buck Darrow did indeed have a story to tell, but he was going to change venues once more before bringing Napoleon Solo in on his intrigues. A small supper was served on the terrace, Buck insisted on taking advantage of the location. The meal was congenial, and the conversation lacking anything remotely like business. They spent the night in the beach house, along with Terrence Cayhill and one other person, an Hispanic woman who lived in the house and served as a caretaker there.

Early the next morning the aromas of breakfast wafted through the house, augmented by the smells of ocean and sea air. Napoleon showered and dressed, then headed out onto the big veranda that faced the sea.

"Good morning." His greeting to the woman serving the food was accompanied by a smile, as always. She was an attractive woman, with long dark hair styled in a braid that reached halfway down her back. She wore red capris and a light blue sweater that hung loose on what Napoleon surmised was a fit and shapely physique.

"Buenos Dias. Espero que pasan hambre esta mañana, señor." Napoleon wasn't fluent in Spanish, but he got enough out of what she said to answer in the affirmative.

"Si, sí, tengo hambre, gracias." And he was hungry. What was it about ocean air that increased a person's appetite?

"Good morning Napoleon, I hope you slept well… again." Buck winked, a playful and familiar sort of way to interact with an agent from the U.N.C.L.E., considering the man worked for THRUSH. Was this really playing out as though the two men were friendly?

"Good morning. I slept well, and I'm famished this morning.'' Napoleon took the napkin and placed it in his lap. He was waiting for the prayer that normally accompanied a meal; or was that just something for Samantha's benefit?

Terrence walked out onto the terrace. He was dressed in tan trousers and a pale blue polo shirt, almost as though to match the woman's clothing. Napoleon set that notion aside, but he wondered a little about the relationships in this strange assemblage.

Buck proceeded to pass a covered dish of steamed tortillas, demonstrating their purpose by filling his with the scramble of eggs and chorizo, some pico de gallo and fresh cotija cheese.

"Esperanza, esto es muy delicioso. Gracias." Esperanza laughed as the men all dug into her food. She sat down and served herself, glad to be with Buck once more. She missed him when he was away.

"So, today we're going to drive up to Houston. Have you ever been to Houston Napoleon? The town is hopping these days, what with the Space Center, and the Astrodome. I thought maybe we could take in a ballgame, the Astros are in town and they have a double header tonight with the Dodgers. What do you say?" Napoleon could only say yes.

Houston might hold some answers to the many questions in Napoleon's mind.


	9. Chapter 9: Jacinto City, Texas

The baseball game was a pleasant diversion from the peculiar circumstances. Napoleon still didn't know the story on why Darrow was doing things that he was doing; taking him on this jaunt to Galveston and Houston, leaving Illya to do school work with Samantha. None of it made sense, and all of it was a mystery.

Napoleon didn't like mysteries without endings.

The morning after the game at the Astrodome it was another road trip for him, Darrow and Terrence Cayhill. The Roadmaster hummed along on Highway 90 until they came to a town called Jacinto City, according to the sign welcoming all visitors.

"Hacinto City?" Napoleon pronounced it as he understood it should be, the Spanish J always with the sound of an H.

"No, around here it is Jacinto, a hard J. Texans refuse to use the Spanish pronunciation because, as it is explained, they won the battle and they can say it any way they please." There was a hard edge to Darrow's voice, he obviously disagreed with the logic, or rationalization.

"Is there a reason we're here Buck?" Napoleon was beginning to have a sense of, if not friendship, then familiarity with his host. Darrow was unlike any THRUSH he had ever met, and it was all he could do to remember that as the reason he was here.

Buck looked out the window, a wave of memories flooding his thoughts as he turned back the clock and thought of his youth here in what was only a community, not yet incorporated or developed.

"I was born here Napoleon. After the war my parents settled here for the work. Dad was hired on in a refinery and my mother worked as a maid. She was Mexican, and that was the only work she could get in this sort of place." His gaze never shifted, and Napoleon began to piece together a small part of the man's psyche, the need to do something good for those who couldn't help themselves.

"Was it hard on you? Being the child of … ' Napoleon didn't know how to finish.

"Being half American and half Mexican? In those days there was a lot of prejudice, a lingering need to keep the Mexicans in their place, which was usually under the boot heel of some hard nosed Texas bigot.' He turned to look at Napoleon, his expression softening slightly.

"At least, well… that's the way it seemed to me at the time. Yeah, it was hard." Darrow turned back to the window, images of the long ago fading from sight.

After a few moments he turned opened the door and got out, signaling both TC and Napoleon to do the same. It was warm already, and their was a stench in the air.

"It smells funny. What is that?" Napoleon wondered how people could live with it, the strange chemical smell.

"It's the by-product of the industries, oil refineries… neglect.' Buck sat down on a bench and motioned for Napoleon to do likewise. They were in a small park dotted with trees and benches, surrounded on two sides by small houses that looked like exact duplicates of each other.

"This town was where I first envisioned a life free of poverty and lack, a freedom to do and be whatever I wanted. This town, and the petty prejudices that tormented me and my mother, this drove me to THRUSH. I wanted enough influence and power to eradicate what I saw as an evil in this world. I just never realized until it was too late that the real evil was THRUSH itself."

Napoleon kept his expression emotionless, but the realization of what might follow made him believe that Buck Darrow was looking for a way out of the Hierarchy. He listened as Buck continued.

"I guess you know that it's nearly impossible to leave THRUSH. Once you're in, especially if you're valuable, there is no exit plan except for a bullet in your skull. I wasn't willing to go that route, so I started planning for a way to get out without alerting them. I've been building a separate empire from which I could maneuver my way out of their grasp, becoming more powerful than what I am leaving behind."

The pause was a cue for Napoleon.

"And are you leaving? Is that why Illya and I were lured to Texas?" Buck smiled and nodded his head.

"Yes. Notice no one was hurt in my escape from your young agent back in Austin. Their inexperience made it easy to gain their attention, be captured and then escape. I regret that your first impression of me was as the dangerous killer I imagine your Mr. Waverly described. Most of that is pure fiction, I have manipulated numbers and misinformation to keep THRUSH off my back. I don't promote drugs, I've kept them off the streets wherever possible. The only victims, if you will, are the drug dealer's I've, um… well, they are no longer in business."

Napoleon was at once relieved and nearly unbelieving as Buck narrated his career with THRUSH. He had spent years constructing a false record of crimes and successful ventures that would defy scrutiny from the Central Committee. He could prove his tally of atrocities, but he could also prove that they hadn't occurred, that he had in fact been fighting crime and putting away drug lords, sex traffickers and other equally repugnant criminals.

They talked for several hours, and Buck produced detailed proof of what he was telling Napoleon.

"What do you want from UNCLE?" That was, in effect, the bottom line.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep this smokescreen working. I know there have been some changes at Central, and my people have reported suspicious activities there and here, in Texas. The Hierarchy may be on to me, which means they will be coming after me and…"

"Sam."

"Yes. She can't live with her mother, it wouldn't be safe for either of them. I have sacrificed that marriage in order to keep them both out of harm's way, but now they will need protection that I may not be able to provide. I would like UNCLE to help me, and in exchange I will give you everything I know and have access to in THRUSH."

Napoleon took a deep breath. He could negotiate with Buck, but it seemed everything was on the table here. He wanted to help him, trusted that what he told him was true.

"If this is true, do you think there's any sort of danger to Sam now?"

"I don't know for certain, but that is one reason I wanted her with Illya. I can't think of anyone I would trust more to protect her." Apparently Buck was familiar with each of them, and his confidence in the Russian was well placed.

"I should let Illya know what's going on. Where are they now?" Napoleon had a sudden concern for his partner, an instinctive caution concerning things back in Denison.

"They are heading to our next destination, safe on board the UNCLE jet." Napoleon was shocked, but then he laughed out loud.

"Really? How did you manage that?" Buck slapped him on the back and laughed with him at the strange way things worked.

"I asked your friend if he still had access to the UNCLE jet, and he made a phone call. They were picked up in Dallas and are heading for Houston. We'll be there to meet them before heading down to Kemah." Napoleon's head tilted to one side, another town with a name he'd never heard of.

"It's on the coast, we'll be on the water again. I hope you don't mind." Buck knew of Solo's aversion to water, of Kuryakin's superior mastery of it as long as he was in it, and not on it.

He knew these men, had hand picked them for their abilities and honesty. These men would keep his family safe.


	10. Chapter 10: Kemah, Texas

"Why Kemah?"

Napoleon had absorbed the story told to him by Buck Darrow, and he believed it. A man smart enough to fool the Hierarchy and survive was a rare individual, and yet the proof of his other life, the one that helped unfortunate folk and protected those who were vulnerable, was easy to access if one followed the right trail.

"Kemah is a little fishing town that serves as a conduit for many THRUSH financed drug transactions. I have cut off as many as I could without exposing myself to unfriendly scrutiny, but now I need UNCLE to step in and help deal with it.' Buck tried to assess the reaction from Napoleon and Illya, hopeful that they would carry this back to Waverly with an endorsement for action.

"I have limits my friends." He felt certain that THRUSH was on to his facade of faithful duty to the Hierarchy. He needed to get out of the way of any repercussions that might be headed his way; he needed to protect Sam and Esperanza, and possibly live with them as a family once more.

Napoleon and Illya had discussed the situation at length after reconnecting in Houston. The UNCLE jet would remain there until further notice, carefully guarded by several Section III agents in a private hangar.

Mr. Waverly was willing to meet with Buck and discuss his intentions to reveal everything he had on THRUSH. What would be asked in return was not yet fully revealed, but nothing could be set in motion until this situation in Kemah was played out. Even then it was uneven terrain for all parties concerned.

"We'll need details, names… What do we need to do to stop the drug trail into Kemah?" Napoleon was seizing upon a plan of action, ready to step into the path of this growing evil as it consumed lives and ruined those it encountered. He was thinking about this when he heard Samantha call out 'mama', her voice trilling above a woman's endearments.

"It's Esperanza, she has arrived. I had Terrence arrange for her to be brought here, hopefully without being followed." He rose to greet her and Samantha as they came into the room, their arms around each other's waists.

"So, Esperanza…?" This man's life was a maze of mysteries and secrets. Napoleon wondered how he kept track of it all.

"Sí, esta es mi familia." Buck embraced his wife, gathered Sam into their circle as the three of them stood together, each of them hopeful of remaining that way.

Illya was touched, he had grown fond of the girl and found her intellect and personality both engaging and … charming. He was charmed by her, and now he was moved by the scene in front of him. It made him think of his own family, the lost years after his father was imprisoned in the wake of the *Ezhov Terror, that violent episode within the Great Soviet Purges of the 1930's.

Napoleon took note of his friend's expression, something that washed over the Russian periodically, never with any explanation.

"Okay, details first and then we make a plan." Napoleon was ready to get to work, but then the aroma of breakfast wafted into the room, arresting Illya's attention instantly as he rose to follow it and the others out onto a covered patio that faced the Gulf.

Please Napoleon, let us enjoy the morning together, with my family. Afterwards we will conspire to topple THRUSH's drug business." The man looked happy, and Napoleon had a twinge of something he dared not identify as he observed the little family of three.

"Absolutely, I'm famished. One question?" Buck smiled at his new friend, because he now considered both of these men friends rather than adversaries.

"Yes, of course."

"Are we to remain here in Kemah for this operation?" Something told Solo that their travels weren't yet over.

"No, we need to go to the start of the trail, in Los Algodones." Napoleon made a face at the unfamiliar name.

"Here in Texas?" Buck shook his head.

"No, Los Algodones is in Baja, on the US border. It is a location that touches the United States in any direction you travel; it is a unique and little known town that makes a perfect base of operations for the drug trade. We will fly there in my plane, and Samantha and Esperanza will take the UNCLE jet back to New York. Your Mr. Waverly has agreed to this."

Napoleon hadn't been informed of the communication between Buck and Waverly, but he wasn't surprised that the man he was getting to know and appreciate would have taken the initiative to make his own arrangements to protect his family.

"Alright, we have a plan." Buck smiled and slapped Napoleon on the back as he led him out to the table where the others were already eating.

"Yes my friend, we have a plan."

*The Ezhov Terror, the most frenzied phase of the Soviet purges, refers to the arbitrary repression orchestrated by Nikolay Ivanovich Ezhov, head of the NKVD (the precursor of the KGB) 1936-1938.


	11. Chapter 11: Los Algodones, Mexico

Los Algodones was a little hole in the wall village, unremarkable in every way to the casual observer. For the drug trail it was a portal into the United States that touched two states at the border, and led to markets throughout the southwest.

Located seven miles west of Yuma and about one hundred and eighty miles from San Diego, the ability to transport and distribute copious amounts of illegal drugs was made possible due to the location and easy border crossings.

Buck's plane had landed in a small private airfield that catered to smugglers and drug runners. It was in keeping with his image to utilize it, making his trip seem part of the business people assumed was viable and, from the look of things, profitable.

"The town itself has little to offer; a few shops and some restaurants that cater to the occasional tourist. I have a place where we'll be staying, just outside the main part of town." Buck was cautious, the Mexican authorities were unpredictable; some were good and honest while others were openly corrupt. To both camps, Buck was considered dangerous and powerful, a man not to be assaulted or threatened. To do so might cost a man his life.

At least that was what they thought. He let that image ride, and at the moment it was what he was counting on to help him and his new alliance to succeed in bringing down the THRUSH drug ring that was using Los Algodones as their portal into the US.

The group consisted of Buck, Napoleon and Illya. Terrence was escorting Esperanza and Samantha to New York aboard the UNCLE jet. Two Section III agents were also on board with them, all of them on high alert. There was a concern that THRUSH was now on to Buck, and his family would be the first target of anyone intent on bringing him down.

A jeep was waiting in the hangar, and the trio immediately got in and headed for Buck's little compound outside of Los Algodones. It was hot, typical for Baja California during the summer. Illya silently wished that the drug trafficking activities were located closer to the ocean.

The short trip was traveled in silence. What lay ahead promised to hold danger, but the risk was worth whatever they might face. The idea of THRUSH becoming even more wealthy while dealing drugs and addiction was unacceptable; that Buck had managed to do some damage to the operation was still inspiring a degree of awe in Napoleon, he had come to respect the man for that and more.

Buck pulled up in front of a brightly painted adobe structure that was fronted by a small courtyard dotted with succulents and several of the spindly little Mexican Palo Verde trees, some still with the yellow blooms that decorated them.

"This is a home for you here?" Illya was amazed at how many houses and properties Buck seemed to own. Waverly had told them it was so, but to a man who had spent most of his life in small rooms, sometimes having to share even that, this sort of grandiose living was almost unimaginable.

The house and other buildings on the property were painted a bright shade of yellow, similar to the Palo Verde blooms. He assumed it wasn't a coincidence that the trees were planted here, as though an accessory to the house itself.

"Si, and like the saying goes, mi casa es su casa." Buck laughed out loud, still amazed at the camaraderie he had with these two men from what had been, up until now, the enemy.

They all got out and followed the terra cotta tiled path towards the front door. It seemed to be without any defenses, but Napoleon assumed that there were security measures unseen by casual observation. Buck would never let down his defenses, especially now.

Two men sat on either side of the big door that led inside. They appeared relaxed, but to the trained eyes of Napoleon and Illya, the recognition of someone trained for battle was detected in their measured movements.

"Bienvenidos amigos…' Buck extended his hand and ushered the two agents inside.

"Make yourselves at home. We will have some food in a bit, but first I want to show you something." He led the way down a hallway that opened up onto a large inner courtyard. A fountain was gurgling, and it seemed that the temperature dropped substantially. A tray was set up next to three chairs, a pitcher of margaritas ready to pour into icy cold glasses. Buck poured the three of them a full measure of the tangy, tequila infused drink, raising his and toasting his friends.

"A small pleasure for me, compadres… salud." Napoleon and Illya responded in kind, raising their glasses and drinking the cold beverage.

"Oh my… I don't think I've ever tasted tequila like this before." Napoleon rarely drank the Mexican liquor, but this went down as smooth as silk while still delivering a subtle kick that made him want more.

"There is nothing that compares to a really fine tequila. Illya, what do you think of it?" Buck liked the Russian, but assumed he was a vodka drinker.

"It is very good. I like tequila, but it tastes better here I think, in this location."

"You may be right my friend.' Buck took a deep breath and assumed a more serious demeanor.

"We must plan our attack on the THRUSH compound where the drugs are stored. It is imperative that we do something tonight, for a shipment goes out tomorrow. They will know by now that I am here, and that I have brought two new men with me. The network is effective, word travels very quickly here."

Napoleon had assumed they would jump into action, but it was so easy to be lulled into the laid back attitude so prevalent in a place such as this. The courtyard made him want to remain here a little longer, especially with a margarita in his hand.

"Where are the drugs? Close to here?" Buck shook his head.

"No, about thirty minutes east of here in Morelos. It is a nothing sort of place, perfect for THRUSH to hide a drug operation."

Napoleon shot Illya a glance that conveyed both concern and conviction. Illya nodded, he'd be ready to go when the word was given.

"I suppose you already know that Illya is an explosives expert." Buck smiled and nodded his head.

"Yes, and I have everything he will need to destroy that facility and guarantee no one will be buying drugs from THRUSH, at least not here in Mexico.' A young woman came out onto the courtyard and got Buck's attention.

"Ah, gentlemen, shall we go in and eat? We can finish out our plans and toast to our success." He got up and led the way inside, a sense of relief flooding his entire being. Soon he would be free, very soon.


	12. Chapter 12: Moreles, Baja California

As it turned out, Moreles wasn't quite the nothing town that Buck had described. There was a new campus of the University of Baja California, recently constructed and indicative of future growth in the region. As in many of the Mexican municipalities, poverty was evident in the tiny, rundown houses that could be seen from the windows of larger, more prosperous homes. It was shocking to see wealth and poverty side by side.

For their purposes, the three men would be on the outskirts of the city, at the THRUSH compound inside of an old garage. It looked benign enough, but there were unseen, secure portions of the building where the drugs were stored. A large panel truck was parked to one side of the building, and several men were gathered around a small fire as they smoked and talked. It was hard to know if they were actually THRUSH, or merely hired hands who unwittingly did the work for meager wages.

Illya was carrying a rucksack full of explosives, and as he watched the garage he began to envision a way to be on the inside in order to effectively eliminate this operation.

"How many men do you think are inside?" The situation was not ideal. There was simply a garage with a bay door where cars could drive through for maintenance or repair. A smaller doorway was located to one side of it, presumably the entrance to an office.

Buck considered past encounters here, calculating the numbers. "Probably ten or twelve, depending on how much merchandise they are dealing with. There is a basement area that was built out adjacent to the bay, you know, where the mechanics work beneath the vehicle. That is where you want to be in order to destroy the shipment and the building." That was going to be tricky, and Illya shot Napoleon a look that said so.

"Buck, what can we do to distract everyone? Illya can't get inside there unnoticed with this many men around. The place is literally surrounded, and from what you're saying, there's an equal number of them inside." Napoleon felt the tension mounting; this was going to be a difficult thing to pull off without someone seeing his partner.

The three of them were silent for a few second before Buck had an idea.

"I will go down there, they know me. They won't question me; I am, after all, a key player in this drug business as far as they understand it.' That was a possibility, but if THRUSH were beginning to suspect Buck of wanting out, might they not be alerted here to that?

"It is fine amigo, they will not have the same attitude here as elsewhere. I speak the language, I bring them cerveza… " He laughed as though the night would offer no obstacles.

"All right, if you think it will work. Illya?" The Russian nodded, it was probably the only thing they could do, and if the timing was right everyone would get away in time to miss the fireworks.

"Okay, Illya can get in place while Buck, you make your appearance and make these guys think it's all just one big party. Do you really have beer with you?" Buck popped open the cooler in the back of his Jeep. It was filled with bottles of Tecate beer on a bed of ice.

"I think we'll be in good shape, just give me about twenty minutes." Napoleon had to smile, Buck was the kind of man who always had a plan.

"They'll be out before you know it, if not from the beer then…' He held up a bag filled with hand rolled cigarettes.

''I come bearing gifts, and these men will gladly accept them.'' Now Napoleon was intrigued. They weren't just plain cigarettes.

"What's in the cigarettes?" Buck held up his fingers as though he were holding one of the tobacco filled cylinders, then took a deep breath that ended in a silly grin.

 _"Marijuana?_ You've got a bag full of joints?" Illya started to laugh before remembering they were supposed to be sneaking up on the group below.

"Sí Señor!." All three of them snickered, almost as though they had been the ones smoking dope. They straightened up and set their sights on the garage. Buck climbed up into the Jeep and waved goodbye to the UNCLE agents who watched him approach and then greet the men at the garage. He got out, shaking hands and slapping some on the back, then proceeded to the cooler to open it up. Each man reached in to grab a bottle of beer, and then Buck produced the bag of joints.

His prediction was accurate, and in twenty minutes time there was an obvious reaction to the beer and marijuana. So far no one had come from inside, but about halfway into his visit Buck went inside to check out the interior and the operation itself. Illya checked his rucksack, made sure he had his gun and communicator before heading down to the garage. He scrambled over some rocks and arrived with his typical stealth. No one saw him enter through the office door.

Napoleon was left to wait, never the job either of them wanted. If anyone else were to arrive it was up to him to alert Buck and Illya of the change in their situation. Fortunately no one else had shown up, and Napoleon was hopeful the situation inside was what they planned and hoped for.

Buck checked out every part of the garage and even went down to the underground area. It seemed odd to him, but there wasn't anyone there. The packs of heroin were neatly stacked, waiting to be loaded into the empty boxes that stood nearby.

Illya joined him after looking around and establishing the garage was empty.

"Where is everyone?" The sound of the men outside was loud enough to be heard inside, but the absence of anyone tending to the drugs made Illya uneasy.

"I don't know, someone should have been here working on packing everything for the trip across the border. Let us get on with it, we still need to blow up this place." Buck was surprised, but perhaps it was a good omen for their mission to not be outnumbered too badly.

Illya set about planting explosives in a manner that would be sure to take down the building and destroy the drugs. Buck went back outside and cajoled and drank with the others, not wanting to raise suspicions about his motives. Napoleon watched from his perch, aware that the building was empty. Illya had contacted him immediately, both of them becoming increasingly uncomfortable with what Buck had described as unusual.

A dust cloud began to form in the wake of two vehicles speeding through the desert. Napoleon was quick to contact his partner. Illya heard the trill of the communicator and stopped what he was doing to answer it.

"Napoleon, what is it?" He had a feeling it wasn't good.

"There are two cars approaching, at a very high speed I might add." He wondered if it was a trap, if Buck had somehow fooled them.

"Are you alone Illya?"

"Yes. What are you thinking?" Illya already knew, he had harbored similar suspicions.

"Is it possible that Buck … ? But why? He could have taken us out earlier without all of this." Saying it out loud was enough to convince both men that they didn't believe Buck had betrayed them.

 _Someone had betrayed Buck Darrow._


	13. Chapter 13: New Orleans, Louisiana

Inside the compound Illya found himself scrambling to finish setting the explosives. When he was satisfied with his work he went in search of Buck Darrow, hoping to find him still on site and not fleeing the scene and the two men he had convinced of his innocence.

Buck was still inside, watching the approach of the vehicles. He turned when he heard Illya approaching.

"You know about them?" He canted his head in the direction of the road, responded with a heavy sigh at Illya's acknowledgement.

"Come on, we need to get out of here. We can try to figure out who turned on you after the blast, which is imminent." Illya pushed Buck out of the door and past the inebriated crew still gathered around the fire.

" _Compadres, sugiero que usted se ejecute por sus vidas!"_

All of the men laughed at Buck's exclamation, then watched as he and Illya ran past them and up into the hill beyond. Doped as they were with alcohol and marijuana, it took some of them longer to take in the notion of danger, but others began to run into the night as fear jettisoned through their muddled senses. Buck had no desire to murder anyone, not even THRUSH lackeys.

It was a stroke of good luck for those unfortunates who were slow to act that the explosion spared their lives, thanks to Illya's expert placements. Those who were caught in the blast would be unable to help the men arriving at the sight of what had been a valuable THRUSH operation.

Illya and Buck made it back to where Napoleon had the Jeep already running, waiting only until all of them were inside before leaving as quickly as possible.

"Napoleon, do not return to Los Algondones. We need to head for New Orleans.' Buck slapped the American on the back and laughed out loud.

"I am not _loco mi amigo_ , just trust me. New Orleans is where we need to be, and I believe we will have answers there as to who alerted THRUSH to our little, eh… _mision de sabotage._ ''

''Tell me the way Buck!" Napoleon shouted above the noise of the engine and the receding sounds of the explosions. They would head for Yuma tonight, and hope the cover of darkness would be in their favor.

The drive into the desert and across the border into Arizona took less than an hour, and by midnight the men were in Yuma. Buck gave Napoleon directions to the Southern Pacific Railroad Depot.

''Train? I rather enjoy a good journey by rail." Illya was relieved to be out of the Jeep and the jostling ride across desert terrain. Napoleon was curious about the change in transportation, and the destination. He pulled into a parking spot, eyeing the Spanish style depot. None of the three anticipated the changes that were coming for the declining rail services in the United States, including the Sunset upon which they would travel to New Orleans.

"Okay, so what are the chances that we can get on board a train tonight?" Napoleon had ceased doubting Buck's ability to make things happen, but he was aware that train schedules weren't as reliable as in years past.

"Oh, tsk tsk Napoleon, surely you know by now that we will have exactly what we need." Buck smiled and reassured the UNCLE agents of the certainty of his plan. Buck always had a plan.

"We will be leaving within a few hours, so let us find a good meal and perhaps some of us can nap, apenas un poco." Illya laughed at that, aware his friend Napoleon could never take a small nap under these types of circumstances.

"You have someplace for us to eat? It's late, where will there be a restaurant open at this time of night?" Illya liked the idea of eating, he was famished as well as tired from the evening's events.

"Just follow me." Buck got out of the jeep and headed on foot towards a well lit building a block or so away. Napoleon and Illya fell in step alongside their new ally, never forgetting with whom he had formerly done business.

The little cafe was still open, as indicated by the lights inside. It was owned by someone with whom Buck was well acquainted.

" _Señor Buck!_ " The elderly woman behind the counter was all smiles as she came around to greet Darrow. He echoed her greeting, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on both cheeks.

" _Señora Hechavaria, como esta_?'' The two conversed in Spanish for several minutes, their obvious affection for each other yet another piece of the puzzle concerning this man. There would, no doubt, be a story to augment this evening's meal.

Buck motioned for Napoleon and Illya to be seated, and within minutes food started arriving on large platters. It was as though they were expected here tonight.

"This looks like a feast. How on earth…?" Illya was puzzled and delighted. His plate was soon filled with enchiladas,tamales and rice; a bowl of mint infused albondigas soup completed the menu.

"Our train departs at seven, which means we have about four hours to eat and get a little rest. We are safe here, I assure you." There was no reason to doubt his words, and so each man set about to devour his meal while Señora Hechavaria looked on. Her family was indebted to Buck Darrow, and they would make certain he came to no harm while under her roof.

"So, what waits for us in New Orleans?" Napoleon was still puzzling over that. He had already contacted New York and was assured that Esperanza and Samantha were safely ensconced in Headquarters, under the watchful eye of Alexander Waverly. Resources there were searching for possible leaks that might have led to the discovery of the mission in Morelos, but so far nothing had been discovered.

"I have people in New Orleans, and they are looking into some contacts who might have had knowledge of the site in Morelos, could possibly have contacted THRUSH. I have my enemies you know."

No doubt there were many who might lust after what Buck Darrow had built, and were capable of trying to topple his private empire. If New Orleans held clues then New Orleans it would be.

At seven o'clock in the morning, another leg of the journey would take them to New Orleans, and hopefully some answers.


	14. Chapter 14: Ocean Springs, Mississippi

The journey by rail was two days aboard the Sunset Limited. The cars were reduced from the former luxury of dining car and sleeping rooms, so that the three men endured the trip in reasonably comfortable seats as they shared duties as sentry while the other two would sleep.

When the train pulled into New Orleans it was nearly forty-two hours that touched on three states, most of it Texas. It seemed that nearly everything in this affair revolved Texas.

Buck was the first to collect his gear, prodding a still sleeping Russian to wake up and get to work. Napoleon stood back when he saw Darrow prodding his partner, not certain the consequences of waking Illya wouldn't include bodily harm.

Fortunately for all involved, Illya hadn't been sound asleep, and his instincts about his surroundings circumvented any violence toward Buck. Other passengers would have noticed, a warning that transcended his normal response to the unwelcome intrusion.

"We're here and we need to get moving. I have a meeting already scheduled at a spot I think you're going to like.' Buck winked at his two new friends, a sort of mischievous look on his face as he led the way through the train, and down to the platform.

"I sent word by way of Señora Hechavaria to my people here." He realized the UNCLE agents would be wondering how he could have communicated with anyone while onboard the train.

Napoleon was keeping stride with Buck while Illya lagged slightly behind. He was suspicious of someone he had noticed near the baggage cart as they disembarked. The fellow had seemed a tad too interested in them, and so Illya was slowing his pace in order to see how that man acted, whether or not he would follow. Napoleon didn't make mention of it, he realized his partner was on to something or someone. If it became a threat then they would take action.

The man in question did begin to trail them, unobtrusively at first but, as Buck and Napoleon quicker their pace, he did as well. He seemed to have lost sight of Illya, who had ducked behind a partition separating the walk way and a supply station. He was able to watch his prey from the end of the partitioned area and then fall in step behind him. The one following was now being followed.

Buck managed to hail a taxi successfully, looking around to check where Illya was. He saw the man who had tailed them and broke into a wide grin.

"Jacob! Why are skulking around like a predator? Get over here and meet my, um…' Jacob broke into a trot and headed to the taxi.

"Jacob Webber, this is Napoleon Solo; Napoleon, Jacob." The two men eyed each other and then shook hands, both of them wary but assuming Buck's approval sufficient. Illya joined them, still wondering why this new fellow hadn't simply called out to Buck.

"Oh, and this is Illya Kuryakin. He spotted you, by the way." Another wink from Buck. Apparently he had known this Jacob was at the depot.

Napoleon got into the cab, Buck slid in behind him and then Jacob. Illya sat in the front seat.

"And this…' Buck slapped the taxi driver on the shoulder, "this is Jacob's brother Eli. I think you have surmised by now that these two are part of my family." Illya frowned at that.

"Your family?" Illya liked Buck well enough, although he never quite lost sight of his THRUSH affiliation.

"Yes, these men are like family to me. We have all worked at keeping ourselves safe from THRUSH while endeavoring to make things right. You have to trust one another, and I trust Jacob and Eli." The two men nodded their heads, it all seemed very copacetic.

Napoleon had given up trying to figure out the strategy of where Buck was taking them. There did seem to be some sort of method, but being unfamiliar with his network of contacts and properties hindered the ability to foretell their future. Illya remained on alert in spite of having mostly absolved Buck of his reputation.

"Where are we heading tonight? You said you had people in New Orleans, so…?" Napoleon had come to assume that Buck had people everywhere.

"Ocean Springs, Mississippi. I think you will both like it there. Oh, and yes to having people in New Orleans. We are sharing a cab with them." So, the brothers Webber were Buck's 'people'. Okay, Napoleon had expected a bit more but, he wouldn't judge based on the numbers.

"What is in Ocean Springs? I thought New Orleans was the place to find answers." Illya was tired and hungry, and driving to Mississippi in the middle of the night, in a taxi no less, seemed more an annoyance than a strategy.

"Illya my man, we will have a feast there. In the meantime, Eli…' Buck leaned forward and gave the young man directions and a wad of cash. In a few minutes he pulled into a diner and got out of the car, returning in a few minutes with several sacks and a box filled with cups of hot coffee. In the sacks were Muffuletta sandwiches, the New Orleans specialty made with Genoa salami, ham, mortadella and, mozzarella and provolone, topped with locally made olive salad. All of it is piled into a soft Italian bread, always round.

Illya pried open the wax paper in which his sandwich was wrapped and almost gasped with delight. Eli started the engine and the sound of chewing and satisfaction filled the cab. Eli ate as he drove, producing one last bag as each man finished his sandwich. He handed it first to Illya who reached in to find a genuine treat; a pecan praline to finish his midnight meal.

Illya handed the back to the back seat as he bit into his candy, the flavor of a hundred years worth of candy making melting in his mouth as the night passed by.

A two hour trip that took the taxi over the Biloxi Bridge into Ocean Spring seemed to fly by, thanks to the meal and the espresso strength coffee. When the carload of men drove into the Ocean Spring it was nearly daybreak.

"You know where to take us, Eli." Buck trusted the young man and his brother, of that he had been telling the truth. The two of them had been orphaned and abandoned when he discovered them hiding in one of his out buildings at his home here in Ocean Springs. He took them in, fed them and gave them a home. His housekeeper, Natalie Fordham, raised them into fine young men who easily pledged a loyalty to the man responsible for their good fortune.

"Miss Natalie will be happy to see you Buck." Natalie Fordham was a force of nature, a woman who had persevered in the face of discrimination and poverty to find herself in the employ of a man she considered fair and respectable. He treated her as an equal, not always the case in the decade of the 60's, in the South. Maybe not anywhere, come to think of it.

Eli drove through town, past the shrimp boats and the stretch of beach that would be full by noon. When finally the taxi arrived at its destination the car was in East Beach, a neighborhood noted for its location near the gulf and a strand of land that provided some protection from the elements. For Buck, it also provided an element of privacy.

Natalie Fordham was waiting for them on the front porch, a grand expanse of wood that fronted the big house. She had lived here with the Webber boys for fifteen years, always keen to provide a good home for them and a welcome retreat for Buck Darrow. She had also tended to Samantha and Esperanza when they were still a family. It had been a few years since they were all here together.

The entourage exited the cab one by one, Illya waiting until everyone else was out. He needed to sleep, but had resisted it during the drive here. Now he wished for a bed and a few hours free of the journey and the mission.

"Mr. Buck, boys…' Natalie reached out and received the men she had grown to consider family. With no children of her own she had invested in these boys as though borne to her.

"I swear, you and the hours you keep. Here it is just daybreak and pullin' in for breakfast, no doubt." Buck hugged the slender black woman and kissed her on the cheek. His affection for her was obvious, and once again Napoleon wondered just who this man really was.

"Oh, Miss Natalie, it is good to see you. Here, let me introduce you to our guests." He waited for Napoleon and Illya to join him on the porch and made the introductions, each man politely greeting the older woman, thanking her for the hospitality they were anticipating would be waiting for them.

Buck ushered everyone inside, directing the UNCLE agents to their rooms upstairs. Everyone was tired, and the idea of a few hours sleep was foremost on their minds. They wouldn't be good for much until they were rested from the journey that had taken them from Yuma to Ocean Springs.

"Let's try to gather for lunch, we should all be refreshed by then and ready to eat. Miss Natalie will not disappoint you with her cooking."

Eat, sleep and …

Prey.


	15. Chapter 15: Pensacola, Florida

Napoleon and Illya allowed themselves to sleep for three hours, just enough to regain some sense of renewal from the arduous two days previous to now. Buck took a short nap in his favorite chair while Natalie set to work gathering the makings of the noon meal. She went to the boat docks and shopped for fresh catch; the lunch she prepared would be memorable for her guests, and the launch of yet another leg on their journey.

Upon awaking from their morning nap, both Napoleon and Illya showered and changed into fresh clothes, compliments of the house. The weather was hot and humid, and both men found linen trousers and lose cotton shirts that would help them to cope with the Gulf's trademark summer climate.

When they were summoned for lunch it was to the aroma of a table loaded with seafood. The bounty of the gulf coast seemed to be on display, and Natalie's skill with all of it made for a memorable meal, just as she had known it would.

After the last bite was devoured and washed down with sweet Southern tea, Buck outlined the next steps they would take.

"My information tells me that the people responsible for the attack in Morelos are a cell of THRUSH operatives located in Pensacola. We'll sail there, it's faster than a car and more out of sight." He noticed Illya roll his eyes.

"I realize sea travel is not your preference my friend, but it will serve us the best. Natalie will have a supply of dramamine for you, just in case." Did everyone know he was prone to sea sickness? Illya nodded his head and thanked Buck for the consideration.

"Very well then, we will depart … ' Buck checked his watch.

"Well, there's no time like the present. Eli, you drive us there and return here with your brother and Miss Natalie. I think it best that you go to the other house, in case there is some mischief afoot." Eli replied with a nod and looked at his brother and then Natalie for their agreement. No one said where the other house was located, another indication of the level of secrecy needed in order to be safe from THRUSH. Only Buck, Napoleon and Illya would sail to Pensacola.

Within the hour the trio were aboard Buck's stylish 1948 Chris-Craft forty foot double cabin cruiser. It was outfitted with all the necessary amenities, and would get them to their destination in about four and half hours. It was a longer trip than by car but, according to Buck, a safer journey. Illya wasn't looking forward to it, but took his medicine and endured yet another ocean voyage. For Napoleon, it was the highlight of this very long, very unusual affair.

Once within sight of land the little cruiser sailed by the strand called Pensacola Beach, arriving at a small inlet where they docked near Barrancas Avenue. From there they found a vehicle waiting for them.

"Do you always have everything in place?" Napoleon was amazed at the precision with which Buck operated. He must have other 'friends' here in Pensacola.

"I do, I must." That said it all, he was a man always looking over his shoulder.

"Okay then, let's get to it. Where are we going?" If Napoleon Solo was considered a strategist, he seemed to have met his match in Buck Darrow. Mentally, he was taking notes.

Illya had been sorting through the few items he had with him; his communicator and gun, the dramamine pills given to him by Miss Natalie, and a note scribbled in an unfamiliar handwriting. He didn't recall the yellow paper or having read what was written on it. He started to call out to his partner when he spotted a glint, like sun catching the barrel of a rifle. It was a split second too late as the bullet caught Buck in the shoulder. He faltered then turned back towards the boat, yelling out to Illya to start the engine as he and Napoleon made their way back on board, dodging another bullet as it whizzed passed them into the water.

Illya was at the wheel of the cruiser and began backing out of the slip as Napoleon quickly unwound the rope from the cleat that held it. He looked up and saw the shooter scrambling from atop a nearby building, out of range now as the boat sped out of the marina and into the channel leading back to the Gulf of Mexico.


	16. Chapter 16: Quincy, Florida

As Illya sped out past the strand of Pensacola Beach and back out into the waters of the Gulf of Mexico Napoleon was tending to Buck's shoulder. The bullet had passed through, making the mending task a little easier. The boat had medical supplies so that antibiotics and bandages were applied quickly, all as Buck fidgeted to try and speed up the process.

"Hold on Buck, we do it right now and there are fewer problems later on." Napoleon understood the agitation, being ambushed and shot tended to accelerate all the senses into overload if it didn't kill you.

The day was fading by now as it neared seven o'clock in the evening. They only had a couple of daylight hours left and Illya was unfamiliar with these waters.

"Where am I going Buck? Do you have coordinates for our destination?" Illya had served in the Soviet Navy, but he wasn't in native waters now, he needed some direction.

Buck called out coordinates that would take them to Panama City, explaining that they would travel by land to a place called Quincy after he contacted some friends nearby.

"And you're certain you can trust these people?" Napoleon hunkered down next to Buck, tired of shouting above the noise of the motor and the sea churning behind them.

"Yes, they are like Eli and Jacob, like my own children. I know you do not understand me or my life…' He winced at the pain in his shoulder as he tried to communicate to this man once more the loyalty of those who called him friend and father.

"My life is connected to many people, most of whom I have pulled out of the mire of poverty or crime, whether by choice or by birth. THRUSH was my youthful folly, but I found a way to fight back and use the Hierarchy for my own purposes. The people in Panama City will help us, and we can get to Quincy tonight. No one knows about the place I have there." Napoleon squinted as he took in all that Buck was saying to him.

"No one?" Buck shook his head.

Illya stayed the course on the coordinates Buck had given him, and with calm waters beneath them the trip was made in good time, about three hours. Following more of Buck's instructions led Illya to a secluded cove away from the public beaches, a hidden spot where they could drop anchor and wade ashore easily. Napoleon was in contact with Mr. Waverly, who assured his agents that Samantha and Esperanza were both sequestered in a safe house with April Dancer and Mark Slate. No signs of THRUSH or any other hostile persons had been reported. Terrence Cayhill was no longer at Headquarters, he had caught a flight to Athens the second day after their arrival in New York.

Napoleon reported back to Buck, curious about TC's departure. By the look on Buck's face, he hadn't known about it.

"You didn't send TC to Athens?" Buck shook his head, an anguished expression on his face that spoke volume about what he now suspected.

"Do you think he betrayed you? I thought…" Illya had joined the conversation but let his words slide away as the realization of betrayal crystalized for all three of them.

"We need to get going. We need to get to Quincy, it's one spot that not even Terrence knows about. We need a car…" Napoleon shot Illya a look of concern. For the first time since meeting Buck Darrow, the man seemed less confident, almost confused.

"What we need is to get you to a hospital. You're bleeding again, and infection might be setting in." Buck shook his head, there would be no hospitals, no stopping for anything.

"We need to get out of here. The road is just beyond those trees, and across from that is another small beach that sometimes attracts a particular crowd…" He smiled as recognition hit Illya.

"Drugs? And you think I might look the part?" It was a gift, of course, being able to fit in like the chameleon he was.

"Fine. Let's get away from this beach and you two wait for me." Illya took off ahead of them, letting Napoleon assist the wounded man to a hiding place among the trees that faced the road. Illya crossed it and ran to find a spot where he could see who might be gathered on the other slice of beach. He saw about a half dozen people, young and tan. They were laughing and drinking beer, or so it seemed. They were also passing around what had to be several marijuana joints. There were three cars, two of which were Volkswagen Beetles. The other was a '64 Jaguar E-Type convertible, completely unsuitable for his purposes but tempting nonetheless.

Illya decided he didn't need to invade the party, they were all high and not paying attention to anything beyond the circle in which they sat. He decided on the black VW, it seemed less likely to draw attention from law enforcement or THRUSH. He encountered no problems getting into the car, and as luck would have it, the keys were in the ignition.

"This is either good luck or something worse." He spoke to himself as he turned the ignition. Watching for any sign of recognition from the group on the beach, and seeing none, he put it in gear and pulled away and back onto the road. He stopped where he had left Napoleon and Buck and waited as they scampered out from the trees and loaded themselves into the small interior. Napoleon sat in the back, allowing the taller man the extra room in front.

"I see you have skills beyond THRUSH's description of you." Buck knew the Russian was talented, he just hadn't thought of him as a car thief.

"I do what I must, and now we need to have a direction from you. Where am I going?" Illya was away and down the road before anyone could catch sight of him. He figured it would be several hours before the drugged up crowd at that beach would start looking for a way home.

"Quincy is about ninety miles east of here, we should get there by midnight." Buck outlined their route and relayed pertinent information about the road and where they could stop for fuel. He was tired, and his should ached. His mind drifted off to thoughts of the man he had considered a friend, a loyal comrade. But Terrence Cayhill had apparently betrayed him to THRUSH, and must now be considered the enemy.

With that in mind he drifted off to a troubled sleep as Illya bore down on the accelerator and headed for Quincy.


	17. Chapter 17: Roanoke, Virginia

Once again the trio of travelers pulled into a secluded spot in the middle of the night. Buck seemed rested after sleeping several hours, the route given to Illya one that skirted major highways in favor of backroads unlikely to be traveled by anyone looking for the stolen VW.

When they arrived at the place where they would stay for at least the remainder of the night, it was a completely different sort of accommodation from the others Buck owned. The description Illya would later use was of a shack completely overgrown with everything Florida had to offer.

"Welcome to my truly secret hideout." The now familiar wink accompanied the facetious invitation to come in and relax. The outside could not have been farther from what Illya and Napoleon discovered behind the rickety looking front door.

"Wow, how did you …?" Napoleon was impressed and shocked at the modern interior, complete with a full kitchen, a bathroom and two bedrooms off of the small living room.

''I enjoy using a little bit of trickery. From the outside it looks like something out of a nightmare, which does seem to keep people out. In case they try to venture in, the front door is actually made of steel, and the windows are bullet proof; the house is nearly impenetrable."

The entire thing seemed very THRUSH-like, and yet here they were helping this man uncover the mole who had betrayed him to the Hierarchy. Nothing about Buck Darrow was what anyone had expected, and even Alexander Waverly was now convinced of the sincerity of the man's war against THRUSH's evil designs. Illya and Napoleon had been on the road with Buck for nearly a month, changing cities sometimes on a daily basis. Both of them were weary of the journey, but intent on getting to the end of it with their new ally.

"Are you in touch with anyone close by?" Illya had closed his communicator after checking in with Waverly. He wondered if there were others here in Quincy that Buck would call on for help.

"No, no one knows of this place.' He looked at the two men he was traveling with, showing the wear of his wounds, both physical and emotional.

"Not even Terrence is aware of it, so we need not be concerned of his ability to share information concerning it." Napoleon recognized the disappointment in Buck's voice. Betrayal was never easy to reconcile.

"Look, Buck… ' What do you say to someone who's lost a friend in such a way? "Perhaps it wasn't TC, maybe he's been abducted or…" The look on Buck's face told him he was resigned to it. Terrence Cayhill had sided with THRUSH after all of this time. Perhaps he had always been a traitor, it would account for the times a plan failed or he lost someone in his organization.

"I don't know how he did it, or for how long, but he wouldn't have abandoned Sam and Esperanza. He couldn't afford to get trapped inside UNCLE Headquarters, so he bolted. I"ll find him, and we'll both come to terms with it." That sounded like a threat, and Napoleon felt pretty certain that Buck would carry it through to a conclusion he was unwilling to let happen. After all of this, Buck needed to steer clear of vengeance.

"Okay, enough of that. Let's get some sleep." Illya had stopped at a small roadside diner where he bought sandwiches and coffee for them. That would suffice for now, and sleep was a welcome reprieve from the road. Buck was formulating a plan for the next day, and in his dreams he encountered no obstacles as he sought out the man who had become his enemy.

When morning dawned it was to the aroma of eggs and bacon, and the sound of coffee in the percolator as it popped and bubbled. Illya was first in the shower, a luxury that invigorated him anew for the day ahead. Napoleon followed suit and came into the living room to find Illya and Buck deep in conversation.

"Am I intruding?" Napoleon knew he wouldn't be, but the seriousness of the two others set him on alert.

Buck straightened up and motioned for him to sit down at the bar separating the kitchen from the rest of the room.

"Not at all, I was just explaining to Illya the course I've set for the day.' He filled a plate for Napoleon similar to one in front of Illya. It was becoming a familiar scene, these three around a meal before embarking on yet another leg of their strange journey.

"So, where are we headed? And how? I don't fancy a day inside of that VW." Illya had preferred the boat to the cramped vehicle, and that was saying a lot.

"We're flying north, to Raleigh. I have a small plane nearby…" Napoleon smiled at that.

"Of course you do." Illya was definitely in charge of writing the report on this affair, he was going to insist on it.

"Yes, well… I have to plan, remember?"

The plan turned out to be one that would take them into Raleigh in search of someone who might be able to help them find out where Terrence had gone, and to whom he had been reporting. It was a little risky, but the woman he intended to talk to was someone he trusted.

"You trusted Terrence, how do you know this woman isn't in league with him?" Illya was not convinced, but what else could he do but go along with it.

"Oh, and Illya…" Illya's expression was wary, unsure what Buck might be ready to ask of him.

"You will need to fly us out. My shoulder is still stiff and sore, I don't want any impediments to our safe journey. Napoleon, I know you fly as well but our friend here has a reputation I think I shall yield to."

Napoleon didn't mind, he could do with a relaxing flight into god only knew what.

"Roanoke, I've never been to Roanoke. And who is it we're going to find there? Someone we know?" Illya was curious about the woman Buck was going to meet there. She was THRUSH, so why would she help him?

Buck had developed a good relationship with this person, in spite of her loyalty to THRUSH she seemed to value him even more. It had been a long time ago, before Samantha was born. Call it wild oats, or indiscretion… but it created a bond between them that had never failed.

"You may know her, she's certainly shown up in places where THRUSH was active. She keeps a place in Roanoke, for when she needs to be on the coast but away from New York. It's her hiding place, a secret she keeps from THRUSH." Napoleon felt a shiver go up his spine.

"And her name?" Illya saw a look on his friend's face that warned him of what was coming.

"Angelique. Angelique LeChien."


	18. Chapter 18: Savannah, Georgia

The small airfield was less than thirty minutes from Buck's hideaway, so after breakfast and a quick check-in with Mr. Waverly, Napoleon and Illya headed to the VW for the short trip. When they arrived Buck directed them to a hangar at the far side of the runway.

"I have a plane here…"

"Of course you do. Where don't you keep a plane or boat for quick getaways?" Napoleon had become almost immune to Buck's propensity for the perfect backup plan, but a small glint of Strategist Envy lingered in the back of his mind.

"My friend, it is the life I've lived that makes me so, hmmm… prepared. You must admit, it has come in handy."

The plane was a red and white Cessna-172, and Illya was quick to give it a cursory inspection before sliding into the pilot's seat.

"I've not flown one of these, any tips on how to handle her?" He was a consummate pilot, but as one he never turned down professional advice, even from a non-professional.

"She's easy to handle, you shouldn't need much in the way of adjusting to things.' Buck climbed into the front seat after indicating to Napoleon that he should sit behind them.

"I hope you don't mind Napoleon, but I want to make certain I can see and monitor everything." The CEA of UNCLE Northwest understood that, he was a bit controlling himself. Sometimes it was a matter of life and death.

"Not at all, I'm in yours and Illya's capable hands."

Illya started the engine and taxied out to the southern end of the runway. Their destination lay to the northeast, and his course would take them across Florida and Georgia, heading to the coast. Buck felt it was safer than flying completely over land, so they would stay on the coastal path until they reached Norfolk, then head west towards Roanoke. It would take longer than a straight shot north, but for the sake of avoiding any kind of sabotage, it seemed worth the time.

The take off was textbook, and the plane caught a tailwind that seemed to add loft to their ascent. As the trio headed east towards the Atlantic it was only Napoleon who had a sudden sense of foreboding about this journey. Why, he couldn't say. But as the first hour passed and the sky ahead of them seemed to grow darker than the water beneath, he began to wonder about the wisdom of remaining on their current course.

"It looks like a storm, should we think about heading to land?" Illya shot Buck a look that asked the same question. THRUSH was no more a threat than bad weather at five thousand feet.

"We can fly above it, this plane has a ceiling of fourteen thousand feet. Illya?" Buck wouldn't overrule his companions, but he thought they could outlast the storm.

"I have no wish to die, and flying above this storm at sea seems foolhardy at best. I think we need to head west, try to outrun the storm." Illya was not averse to taking the safer route, it would be foolish to purposely endanger their lives unnecessarily. Buck nodded, he wouldn't try to change their minds.

"Very well, you are the pilot." Napoleon breathed a sigh of relief, his sense of imminent danger was slightly assuaged, but something else niggled at his spine in an effort to send cold chills up that path.

The storm behind them, Illya turned the aircraft toward land, flying over the dense forests that spanned the length of the eastern edge of the continent. They would head north to Roanoke, passing over Savannah in a direct path. It would be another three hours between those cities, so that the three men settled in for the journey.

It was smooth at first, with no sign of the storm they had seen over the Atlantic. But the closer they got to Savannah the more turbulent the air became until suddenly, with a forceful front that seemed to have come out of nowhere, they were surrounded by an ominous bank of dark clouds that seemed infused with electricity. Lightening could be seen from every angle and Illya began to work hard at keeping the plane on an even course.

Napoleon took out his communicator and called New York:

"Open Channel D, this is Solo."

"Mr. Solo, where are and === " The transmission broke up, making it nearly impossible to hear what Waverly was saying.

"Sir, sir I cannot understand. The storm seems to be disrupting our communication."

"I am ha===, please advise wh===" And then there was nothing.

Illya was battling to keep the plane from yielding to the crosswinds above and below them. He had begun to fly lower, gradually decreasing his elevation in order to search out a spot to land. He located a clearing that looked manageable, but before he could start his descent, lightening struck the propeller, causing the engine to stall. The windshield cracked with the impact of the strike, causing more alarm; there was nothing they could do about it.

"Hold on, we are going down!" Illya yelled as he struggled to maintain some control, leveling the wings as he manually adjusted the ailerons trying to compensate and keep the plane level. Napoleon braced for impact, as did Buck. As the plane dropped in violent increments of twenty and thirty feet, the ground below them became increasingly clear. If they could only reach the clearing to which Illya had headed just minutes before, they might stand a chance of surviving this.

As the wings began to respond the plane caught wind and behaved like a glider on its descent. Illya managed it until at last he was able to drop onto the ground, the worst of it now seemingly behind them. When the plane was fully stopped, Illya turned off the ignition and started to say something, Instead he lay his head back and passed out.

What neither Napoleon nor Buck could have known was that the lightening strike had caused a fragment of the propeller to break off and fly back into the plane. As they looked now at the Russian, seemingly exhausted from his ordeal, they both saw blood as it seeped from a gash in his chest.

***Bizarre but true... Look up Air Canada Propeller Accident ***


	19. Chapter 19: Thunderbolt, Georgia

There was precious little land suitable for landing an aircraft in this region of marshes and rivers. It was a small miracle that Illya had managed to land the plane in one of those spots, especially with a shard of metal from the propeller in his chest.

The rain was coming down heavy now, making it unlikely that being outside of the plane would be advantageous for them. Illya was bleeding and unconscious, and the only thing on Napoleon's mind was getting help.

"Open Channel D, this is an emergency!" He couldn't make himself sound calm, he wasn't going to attempt it.

"Mr. Solo, what the deuces is going on?" Waverly was clear as a bell in spite of his ire with the situation.

"Illya is badly hurt, we've had to make a crash landing in a place outside of Savannah. I'm not sure where we are exactly, but Illya needs medical help." Napoleon was sure that his superior could hear the urgency in his voice; he hoped so.

"I have you on the map Mr. Solo, the tracking device is … You are just outside a place called Thunderbolt." Napoleon could have laughed out loud at the irony. But he didn't, his concern for his friend was too overwhelming.

"Can we expect some help sir? I have no idea how to get out of here, the storm is closing in on us." What if it wasn't possible to send help in the midst of this storm.

"We have a satellite office in Savannah, I will dispatch them to Thunderbolt and convey the severity of Mr. Kuryakin's condition. You are on the outskirts of Thunderbolt, I will notify the authorities there as well."

"Thank you sir, I… We were hoping to intersect information regarding Terrence Cayhill's location, he seems to be a key to discovering who is trying to kill Buck." Napoleon was suddenly weary, the trauma of the landing and Illya's injury was about to implode.

"Mr. Solo, you and your fellow travelers are to return to New York. We will sort things out here before continuing on with this, ahh… pursuit. Please inform Mr. Darrow that his family is anxious to be reunited with him."

"Yes sir, I will. And… thank you sir. I'll see you in New York, soon I hope." Napoleon meant it, the past month had been interesting and informative, but the only thing they had now that was lacking in the beginning was Buck himself. Only Terrence Cayhill could have betrayed the alliance between Buck and UNCLE, and if that was the reason behind the ambush at Morelos and the sniper in Pensacola, where did it lead them?

"Help is on the way, afterwards we're going back to New York." Napoleon was stern in his pronouncement. His only real concern was for Illya, and the look on Buck's face was acquiescence to what was next on the journey.

Illya seemed to be stable, the puncture in his chest not near enough to anything vital to be life threatening. The loss of blood was what had caused him to lapse into unconsciousness, that and a blooming bruise on his forehead.

"He must have hit his head on impact. I can't believe he didn't falter when that shard struck." Buck admired Illya, both for his reputation and for the man he now knew and regarded as a friend. He wondered if either of the UNCLE agents saw him in that light, rather than a renegade THRUSH chief. A sudden longing to see his wife and child flooded him, bringing him nearly to tears. Running for your life and the pursuit of traitors was no way to live. He was ready for something less polarizing.

Within fifteen minutes a sheriff and ambulance arrived from Thunderbolt. The Section III agents from Savannah were right behind them, and together they were able to remove Illya from the cockpit of the plane and gather the other two passengers into vehicles that would take them to the only medical facility in town. Inside the ambulance the only physician in Thunderbolt examined the shard in Illya's chest, but deemed it too dangerous to try and remove it while on the uneven terrain.

Napoleon nearly bolted out of the police car as it pulled up in front of a small clinic. Buck was right behind him as the two met the ambulance attendant and helped get the gurney inside.

Doctor Neil Harley was still a young man, and his time in Thunderbolt was part of a program to install physicians in small towns in exchange for partial repayment of student loans. He'd never seen anything like what faced him now, and from the look of the men whose friend the injured man was, he knew it would be unwise to make a mistake.

"Uh, gentlemen, umm…' Neil took an involuntary deep breath…

"If you will just wait here I'll be doing what I can to… well, I'm going to remove that … What is it exactly?" Napoleon had misgivings about this guy, and wondered why they hadn't made the trip into Savannah.

At that moment a loud yelp came from the gurney, causing everyone in the room to turn and face it rather than each other.

"What the …? Illya!" The blond was gasping, but not for his life. He had awakened to find a piece of metal causing his pain; he visualized it, pinpointing the location and its relation to muscle and bone… all he had to do was pull it out.

The doctor was ashen, obviously not used to the patient doing his own surgery. He started mopping up the blood from around the wound, applying astringent and antibiotics. Everything was a bit chaotic as Napoleon looked on in disbelief. Buck nearly laughed, it was so like the Russian to just take things, literally, into his own hands.

"Well I guess you think you can practice medicine now eh Doctor Kuryakin. I swear Illya…" It was no use. The good news was that nothing about this was life threatening. The bad news, there was a crowd gathering and it was becoming difficult to determine who was supposed to be here and who wasn't.

Illya let the flustered physician bandage his shoulder, all the while listing to one side as he held on to consciousness. Napoleon had the Section III agents from Savannah get the car ready so they could all leave as soon as possible. Waverly had dispatched the UNCLE jet as soon as he heard from Napoleon. By the time they could get to the airport the jet would be nearing Savannah, and the sooner they were in the air the better.

In all of the chaos, one person had been completely forgotten. As Napoleon and Buck waited for the doctor to finish with Illya she sauntered into the clinic, looking for a familiar face.

"Darling Napoleon, and Buck. My, my my… two of my favorite people in the whole earth." Both men turned at the familiar voice of Angelique, neither of them sure just how things were going to go.


	20. Chapter 20: Timbuktu

In writing this story using an alphabetical order of cities, I somehow overlooked having written the T chapter and thus this additional homage to the letter T.

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Angelique LeChien was a formidable foe in the spy business. She was pretty and young, svelte and stylish in a way that spoke of money and ambition. To have been lured to the dark side of THRUSH with little or no resistance indicated a distinctly selfish, perhaps narcissistic personality whose intentions would always be for her own gain and, ultimately, survival.

Napoleon Solo found her extremely attractive. Buck Darrow had, at one point in his affiliation with the Hierarchy, found the platinum blonde operative to be a loyal cohort so long as it benefitted her in the final accounting.

Facing them here now, Angelique thought herself to be entirely too lucky. On the one hand she knew Solo would bend a few rules in order to protect her or accept help from her on occasion. Buck… theirs had been a flash affair, short and full of fire. She sometimes missed him.

But there in the midst of it all…

"I see your disagreeable partner has run into yet another bit of trouble." Angelique disliked the Russian, perhaps more a response to his disdain for her than anything else. He had once saved her life**, an episode that still sent chills up her spine for the sake of her whimpering reaction to that sort of heroics. She was over it now, but something whispered that a reciprocal kindness was going to be requested of her.

Napoleon was already calculating the favor and what it might cost him. Angelique had a network of informants that seemed to keep her always informed of activities that hummed beneath the surface of the THRUSH machine. How she did it, now that was a question he dared not ask lest he lose her in the mire of dirty laundry from which she gathered her information.

"We were hit by lightenings, a piece of the propeller seems to have broken off and…'' An uncharacteristic look of pure amazement passed over the blonde's features.

"You must be joking.' Incredulous was the expression.

''He was hit by a piece of the propeller? And survived?" Buck laughed out loud now that the mood had shifted, at Angelique's expense.

"He pulled it out himself while the doctor was trying to figure out what to do."

"And I suppose now he's going to fly you back to New York. Are you quite sure he's human? That would explain so much…" She feigned being transfixed by the notion of a humanoid Kuryakin.

"Very funny. Angelique…' Napoleon brought them back to the issue at hand.

"We need to know where to find Terrence Cayhill. We think he betrayed Buck, set up an ambush that nearly got him killed. Do you have any clue as to where we might find him?" Angelique pursed her lips as she considered the request.

"Darling, it wasn't Cayhill.' She looked at Buck now, saw the relief at knowing his friend was still on his side.

"He did remove himself from the scene, just as a matter of survival." Napoleon was squinting, trying to figure out how Angelique would be connected to all of this.

"Oh don't look at me like that Napoleon. You requested my presence here; well, not here exactly, but you did want my insights into this little affair." That brought a familiar smile, and a slight nod of his head.

"Yes, fine… So, where is TC now?" At that she shook her head.

"Sorry darling, I'm not at liberty to say.' She paused and held out a cigarette. Napoleon pulled out a lighter and obliged her silent request.

"Are you familiar with Timbuktu?"

Illya had been listening from inside the exam room, waiting as Neil Harley, the slightly dazed and amazed doctor, bandaged and anxiously announced the job was done. Thankful to be out of the nervous physician's hands, he jumped down from the gurney and made his way back to where his partner and the others were huddled in conversation. Illya's interest had been piqued at the mention of Timbuktu, an unlikely spot for this strange mission, but not impossible.

Angelique's eyes traveled the distance from the blond head, across his bare chest and the bandaged shoulder… a slight shiver of attraction made her inhale, disgusted with herself for allowing it to invade her otherwise impervious distaste for the man.

Napoleon had a clean shirt for his friend and helped him into it as Illya hissed at the pain involved with moving his right arm.

"Thank you. ' Illya cut his eyes toward the nemesis he had acquired in the partnership with Napoleon.

''What about Timbuktu? What is the connection to Buck?" The smile on Angelique's face betrayed her amusement at something only she seemed to pick up on.

"Aside from the reference to his name?" All three of the men turned now to look at Angelique. The reference was so obvious, now that she had pointed it out to them.

But what did it mean?

TTTTTTTTTTTTT

** The reference is to the story _**The Table Will Crack**_


	21. Chapter 21: Utica, New York

The safe house in Utica was quiet as three of the four inhabitants slept the night hours away. Mark Slate was on watch, and would be relieved at 3AM by his partner April Dancer. They had been here with Esperanza and Samantha for several days, a recent move after their first safe house was identified by a THRUSH team. The attack was brief, promptly put down by the UNCLE agents watching from across the street; for obvious reasons a relocation became necessary.

Esperanza Maria Gutierrez Darrow was awakened by a vibrating alarm inside of her watch. She dreaded what her daughter might think of her should she ever discover the plan being carried out tonight. Communicating with her contact in THRUSH had been nearly impossible, but no one suspected her part in setting up Buck and the UNCLE agents for the ambush in Morelos.

Esperanza had loved Buck Darrow, ignoring his past dalliances and marriages as she dove headlong into their romance. Her family were THRUSH people, unknown to Buck as he carried on his faux career with the Hierarchy. It took Esperanza years to catch on to what he was doing; in spite of her affection for him, but fueled by her anger at being separated from Samantha, she finally determined to yield to her own set of family values.

Buck would probably always be the love of her life, but Esperanza wanted the career within THRUSH that she had abandoned in favor of marriage and motherhood. Now she would have that career, and she would have Samantha to raise up in the heritage she deserved. Buck's deception was now revealed, and his demise was eminent. A new team of THRUSH agents would be at the ready for her when she emerged from this house; Mark Slate was already succumbing to the tainted beverage she so graciously prepared for him.

 _After the attack on the first safe house, April and Mark had begun to do a little research on Buck Darrow's estranged wife. Her history seemed a little sketchy, and some familiar names began to crop up as they dug deeper into her life story. When the Gutierrez name started ringing bells of recognition connected to a THRUSH Chief in Villahermosa, Mexico, the trail became clear as the daughter of that man emerged._

 _It was decided that they would play along with Esperanza, not wanting to inflict any more trauma on her daughter. Samantha had immediately been friendly with April, and keeping the girl safe was her top priority now._

As Napoleon, Illya and Buck were being escorted to UNCLE Headquarters in New York, six THRUSH agents were converging on the safe house. Mark Slate had not drunk the beverage prepared by Esperanza, so was on high alert as signals from across the street began to flash. Once again the attack would be thwarted by alert UNCLE agents who swooped in on the intruders. While all attention centered on the failed attempt to enter the safe house, Esperanza woke up her daughter and escaped through the back door and into a waiting vehicle in the alley. April was too late to stop her.

Samantha was confused, but she was with her mother. Everything must be all right, she thought.

Esperanza greeted the driver in Spanish, both of them talking quickly as he peeled away and headed for Utica Municipal Airport and the waiting plane that would take them to Villahermosa, and her father.


	22. Chapter 22:Villahermosa, Mexico

Waverly's face showed nothing as he spoke to April Dancer. Her report was troubling, and she and her partner were flying back via helicopter to join Solo and Kuryakin as they began yet another leg on this long journey with Buck Darrow.

"Leave Mr. Slate in Medical and report here as soon as you return." Having given the orders, he signed off and turned to the three men seated at his table.

"Gentlemen,' The bushy eyebrows shot up as he considered the news he must now deliver to Darrow.

"Esperanza and Samantha are, uhmm, gone.' He saw Buck start to stand up, to which he motioned for him to stay seated.

"It appears that your, um, former wife, has deep ties to THRUSH. Her father is Alberto Gutierrez, perhaps the top THRUSH Chief in all of Mexico. She is airborne as we speak, heading most likely to Villahermosa, Mexico. That is his base of operations, and the city in which she was living before marrying you.''

Buck nearly collapsed into his chair, the reality now that it was Esperanza who betrayed him, who set him up for assassination in Morelos, and then in Pensacola.

"She has my Samantha? We must follow her, we must…" Once again, Waverly quieted the man with a gesture.

"Yes Mr. Darrow, we intend to do just that. Not only did she put you in danger, but she is now responsible for almost killing one of my agents. She has drugged Mr. Slate, set in motion two attacks on the safe houses that might have killed or wounded others in my command. Her father is a dangerous man, and so it seems, is his daughter." Waverly was intent on bringing down Alberto Guttierez and Esperanza. The only concern was for the girl, and he would trust his people, and her father, to make certain she was not harmed.

"The UNCLE jet is refueling and will be waiting for you. Mr. Kuryakin, get yourself down to Medical for a proper inspection of your wound before boarding that plane. Mr. Solo, get what you need for the mission and then collect Mr. Slate, Miss Dancer and Mr. Kuryakin on your way out.

"Villahermosa is, as the name implies, a beautiful city. Please leave it in that condition. Very well, safe trip."

Waverly watched them leave the office, his thoughts centered on the plight of a girl caught up in a battle between good and evil.

"Stay brave Samantha." He said that aloud, his prayer for her remained silent.


	23. Chapter 23: Washington, DC

There was a message waiting for Buck Darrow as he and the others prepared to leave for the airport. It had been delivered anonymously, left at Del Floria's by an unidentified woman. After being sent through the usual tests for residue, explosives and bugging devices, the note was given to Buck.

"What's in it?" Illya assumed there should not be any secrets at this point in the journey. Everything was suspect, and nothing could be withheld from other members of the team.

Buck's brow was furrowed, he didn't know what to think of it. He handed it to Napoleon, who then passed it on to Illya. Finally, Mark and April were allowed to read it.

"She says she will meet you at the Washington Monument. Is there a significance to that?" Napoleon assumed something must have happened there judging by the look on Buck's face. He seemed caught between hope and despair, not a good place to be.

"We met there. I think she may want to …' He looked at the others, wondering if a heart could be unbroken after suffering loss.

"I have to at least try. If there's any chance that she's there, that she has Samantha with her there in DC, then I have to go there." April thought she might cry, the look on Buck's face was so earnest. She had been thoroughly shocked at Esperanza's actions. Her words and sentiments about Buck had seemed sincere, and loving. Perhaps she had changed her mind.

Napoleon and Illya shared a look full of concern and empathy. They understood Buck's desire to try and reconcile with the woman he loved, the mother of his child. But what if it was a trap?

"I know what you're thinking, and I still think there's no choice for me but to go there and see for myself. You should go ahead down to Villahermosa, take down Guttierez." Each of the others took inventory of the expressions on each face.

"I'll go with Buck, he shouldn't be alone. You three will do just fine without me." April wanted to see this through, and she was hopeful that it wouldn't be the tragedy everyone was thinking had to be at the end of this trip.

Napoleon had the final say, and he agreed that Buck needed another person with him. He wondered if April were the right choice.

"You take the jet, we'll take the helicopter. If it doesn't pan out, we'll catch a flight down to Mexico and join you. Okay?" April was insistent, and it seemed to make sense.

"Okay, but stay in contact with me. I want to know everything that's happening in Washington."

~~~~~~~:

Esperanza and Samantha landed at a private air strip just a few miles from her father's estate. Once there she would finally feel safe again. Years ago it had been Buck who made her feel secure, and after the birth of Samantha her life had seemed idyllic. Thinking back on that time almost brought her to tears, but she must remain strong for the girl who now gave her purpose.

Purpose. It was a strange thing to feel bereft of that. THRUSH was the family business, and Esperanza now understood what her father had groomed her to do. His was a powerful organization, a satrapy that commanded respect from other THRUSH chiefs the world over. Esperanza would inherit all of it, and after her, Samantha. Soon Buck would be gone, and the memory of him would fade eventually, leaving Samantha Gutierrez, no longer Darrow.

The driver delivered them to the home of Alberto Guttierez and rang the bell at the large door. They had no luggage, their departure having been quick and stealthy. Samantha still had the necklace given to her by Buck, but she had thought to hide it in the cuff of her jeans. She loved her mother, but Sam's confidence in her father was without measure.

Esperanza called out to her father from the large foyer. Beyond was a courtyard, typical of the Spanish style architecture, and a useful outdoor space that concealed a basement beneath the tiles. Alberto Guttierez had been anticipating his daughter's arrival, and a first meeting with the granddaughter he did not know.

"Mi hija, bienvenido a casa! Y tu nieta, tu estas en casa ahora.'' Samantha didn't feel like this was her home, and her father never told her about this man, this abuelo. There had to be a reason.

"¿Hablas español?" Samantha nodded, but her mother interrupted them.

"Si Papa, she does, but we shall speak English, for now." Esperanza wanted her daughter to feel at home, to have a sense of the place where they would live.  
"Very well. Now tell me, what are your plans now that you have come home again, and back to our family business?" Esperanza wouldn't speak of it until she and her father were alone.

"Can someone take Samantha to her room? Mi hija, would you like to rest a little before we eat something?" Sam nodded, she did want to get away from this reunion. She wanted her father.

"Yes mama', she turned to Alberto.

"Es un placer conocerte, abuelo." Alberto grinned, leaned in and kissed Sam on both cheeks.

"The pleasure is all mine granddaughter. Now go, rest up and we will have a fiesta in your honor." Samantha did like the sound of that, and she obligingly followed a young woman upstairs to the room that she would now call her own.

Alberto and Esperanza watched the girl as she ascended the curved stairway and disappeared into a hallway.

"She is a fine girl, but won't she miss her father?" Esperanza sat down in an upholstered chair, suddenly weary after her escape and the long flight south.  
''Yes, I suppose she will, but that will fade in time. I have left Buck a false trail to follow, even if UNCLE tells him otherwise. There is an ambush waiting for him in Washington, DC."

"Why there? What could possibly make him think you and your daughter are in the Capitol city?" Alberto was remembering how clever his daughter could be, and cunning. Buck Darrow had never known that side of Esperanza. She had taken her own mother's name in order to remain undiscovered, so that when she met the dashing new member of THRUSH, he knew her as Esperanza Maria Cebollero. He would only now be realizing her true identity.

"Washington is where we met Papa, and so it is fitting that it is where we end. Unfortunately for Buck, it will truly be his end."

Washington, DC was another piece of the puzzle, and it was waiting for Buck and April.


	24. Chapter 24: Xalapa, Mexico

While Buck and April waited for the helicopter to finish fueling, Napoleon and Illya, along with Mark, made the trip to the airfield where the UNCLE jet was parked. When Mark's communicator began to trill he was surprised to hear April on the other end.

"Mark, are Illya and Napoleon with you?" Her voice sounded excited.

"Yes, what's up luv?" Now Illya and Napoleon's attention was centered on the call. April took a deep breath before continuing.

"Wait for us, we're not going to Washington." That caused the three men to exchange looks of surprise, the plan had been set in motion with Waverly's approval.

"Why? What has happened April?" Napoleon took control of the communicator with no resistance from Mark as Buck's voice came across.

"Hello all. Listen to me, I just got a message from Samantha. She and her mother are with Alberto Gutierrez, but she says they won't be there for long." This was surprising news, and of greater interest was how Sam had managed to get a message to her father, some he proceeded to explain.

"I gave Sam a THRUSH communicator and told her to keep it hidden… from everyone, including her mother. I just had this inkling that it might come in handy at some point, plus it let her have a private line directly to me. Anyway, they're heading for Xalapa, in Veracruz. She says her mother wants to show her the university and explore some art galleries. She's feeding into Sam's interests, trying to make her want to be in Mexico."

"This is very helpful, but we still have Gutierrez to take care of.' Napoleon stopped to consider all the aspects of this new information.  
"Buck, come and meet us here. We're all going to Xalapa. Let's get your daughter back, we'll take care of Alberto Gutierrez afterwards."

There was an audible sound of a sigh on the other end of the conversation.

"Thank you Napoleon, gracias mi amigo."

"Just get here quickly, take the chopper. See you in a few."

The plans were quickly redesigned as Napoleon charted their course and cleared the flight plan. Esperanza would not be expecting them to show up in Xalapa, and hopefully she wouldn't find the hidden communicator. Sam was a clever girl, he was putting his trust in her ability to play the game with stealth and cunning. She certainly had the genes for it from two very talented parents. Samantha Darrow had taken advantage of her mother's instructions to settle into her new room. The communicator given to her by Buck had been tucked into the cuff on her blue jeans; it was small enough to remain hidden until she used it to call her father.

As promised, a party atmosphere permeated the big house as people, unidentified for the most part but apparently known to Esperanza as well as her father, showed up for food and drink. All of it was in honor of the returning heir apparent to the Gutierrez dynasty.

Samantha was introduced to some of the guests, others shied away from being identified. She had to wonder about them, but her instincts told her they weren't her friends, nor would they be friends of her father. She had heard the word thrush, not completely understanding why a bird should inspire awe. Now that she was in the middle of this so-called fiesta, Samantha began to have an inkling that the family business employed some people that Napoleon and Illya wouldn't approve of as suitable or safe. She decided to feign tiredness and was excused to go upstairs to her room. She locked her door and prayed for the next day to arrive.

In Xalapa. The UNCLE jet touched down with five people on board, each of them anticipating finding Esperanza and Samantha without much difficulty. Sam still had the communicator and she seemed capable of signaling the UNCLE team without alerting her mother. At least that was what Buck hoped would happen. His daughter was his world, and he felt certain Esperanza felt the same way. At least no harm would come to Sam.

Xalapa had plenty to offer in the way of culture, including the astounding Olmec relics, large stone heads recovered from the ancient grounds of early inhabitants in Veracruz and Tabasco. _Veracruzano Museum of Anthropology_ was the first place Esperanza took her daughter, hoping to instill more of the riches of Mexico's past. At this stage of the museum's development it contained over ten thousand artifacts, but the giant Olmec heads were the most impressive, and Samantha did not regret the opportunity to see them in person.

It was from this site that Buck received the message from his daughter.

"I have their location, but they won't be there for much longer. We need to get on the road now.' Buck looked to the others, each of them ready to do whatever it took in order to help him get his daughter back. "Okay then, we find Samantha and Esperanza, and then we take down Gutierrez."

A 1964 Lincoln convertible easily handled all five of them, with Buck at the wheel and Napoleon in the passenger seat. April was sandwiched between Illya and Mark in the back seat, all of them anxious and hopeful of a good outcome to all of this.

At the museum, Esperanza continued to expound on the history of the Olmecs, the Mayans and their contributions to Mexico and the world. Samantha had never seen her mother like this, so full of expression and enthusiasm. The years apart had meant short visits and only occasional conversations by telephone, and Sam could see why her mother might have built up some resentment towards her father; it couldn't have been easy living alone while Buck and Sam had each other.

"Mama, why didn't you live with papa and me? Why can't we all just be together now?" The question was sincere, Samantha would have preferred her family be together. She didn't want to live in Mexico with her grandfather, a stranger and to her sensibilities, slightly dangerous. In spite of the overtures, the party and the appeals to her regarding family, Sam intuitively felt threatened by the man. Esperanza felt a twinge of guilt now at separating her daughter from Buck. She knew they were close, and this strategy of trying to introduce her into a new culture without him would be difficult. It would hurt Samantha when she learned of his death.

"Mi hija, life sometimes takes strange turns and carries us with it. You have had many years with your father, and although I did not wish to be away from you, there were concerns for all of our safety so long as we were together. Your papa was trying to protect us, but now it is my turn to keep you safe. Comprende?' Esperanza hoped for her daughter's sake that she did not resist. Her own father was a taskmaster who, although he loved her, would not tolerate a rebellious teenager. She must get the girl on the right path now.

"Let the day take us on its own journey. I for one am famished, and I know of a restaurant that you will love."  
Sam nodded her head. She loved her mother, and she loved her father. But if they couldn't, or wouldn't, live together then it was up to her to choose. Her call to Buck was the answer.


	25. Chapter 25: Yuma, Arizona

Esperanza and Sam finished their tour of the museum and headed out to the parking lot, lunch the next item on their agenda. From a vantage point that allowed him to see who was coming and going through the entrance to the big building, Buck watched for any sign of his daughter.

"I see them, they're just coming out. I see the car waiting at the bottom of the steps…' Buck wanted to get this over with, but he knew it would raise an alarm should he try to snatch Samantha at this location.

"Follow them, please don't let them get away." His voice betrayed his concerns, but he needn't have worried. Four UNCLE agents were with him, equally determined to succeed at intercepting Esperanza and Samantha.

"We have you covered Buck, don't worry." Napoleon's assurances were welcome, easing Buck's concerns.

Esperanza and Samantha got into the back seat of the big limousine, settling in before it pulled away and headed for the restaurant indicated to the driver. Samantha noted something new about the man in front of her, a shiver of excitement suddenly animating her conversation as she distracted her mother from taking too much notice of him.

"Mama, where are we going? I am famished, just like you said. Please, tell me about the food there. Is it Mexican, or some other type of food?" Her voice was almost shrill in the excitement of this adventure, or so it seemed. Esperanza was pleased that her daughter should be so delighted with the day they were spending together. She didn't notice the driver's hair, tucked into the cap so that the color couldn't be seen.

Mark Slate pulled into traffic and headed in the direction of the restaurant. When he turned towards the airport the move was so smooth, so subtle, that Esperanza didn't take note of it. Samantha was doing a good job of keeping her mother occupied, something that made her feel both guilty and elated. She wanted to be back with her father, away from the abuelo she didn't want to know.

Illya and April were in a car following close behind the limousine, while Napoleon and Buck had sped ahead of them and were waiting at the airfield with the UNCLE jet ready to get airborne. It should be a simple thing now, getting Samantha and making one last appeal to Esperanza. Buck hoped against hope for a positive response for his estranged wife.

As Napoleon and Buck waited for the limousine to appear, their discussion turned to the next step.

"She removed Samantha illegally, so you have the law on your side. We just need to get her over the border and back on US soil.' Napoleon noted the sad demeanor, a sure sign of how this had affected Buck.

''It's going to work Buck, we'll get her back." The words were comforting, but there was so much more at stake here. Buck had to wonder if Alberto Gutierrez would ever be truly brought to justice, and if Esperanza would ever give up trying to gain custody, and control. of Samantha.

"You and Illya… all of UNCLE really, you have been good to me. For people who were formerly on opposite sides of things, at least in appearance, we have come a long way my friend." Napoleon slapped Buck on the back, a sincere sense of friendship truly did exist between them now. The journey had been long and winding, but there seemed an end to it now. It was in sight, almost within their grasp.

Esperanza looked out the window, the trip was taking too long. She tapped on the window that was between the front and back, trying to gain the driver's attention. It was then she finally noticed his coloring and features.

"Stop the car!" She banged on the window, but it was in vain. Mark kept going, turning at the opening in the fence that bounded the airfield. Esperanza could see the jet now, saw two men standing in front of it.

"Samantha, how…?" She didn't know how, but Samantha must have alerted Buck to their location. The girl cowered at the sight of her mother's disappointment and anger. She loved her mother, she truly did. Both of them thought their hearts might burst from the sadness they were each experiencing.

"Mama, I just wanted us all to be together again. Please mama, please…" Her tears came like a flood, and Esperanza held her tight, unwilling to let go of the daughter she loved so deeply.

"Ssshhh… mi hija, it will be all right." She didn't know it could be, but in spite of her aspiration to rise within the ranks of THRUSH, Esperanza could not, and would not sacrifice her daughter's happiness to it.

Mark pulled the car up to the jet with Illya and April close behind. There was no doubt now that this would turn out in Buck's favor. The door locks were released and Napoleon held open the door for Esperanza and Samantha to get out.

"Papa!" Sam ran to her father as he enveloped her in his embrace. Esperanza watched, unable to fight back tears as she recognized the bond shared between father and daughter. She wondered if hers was as strong, as unyielding.

Buck turned to face his wife, still unbelieving that the woman he had loved and tried to protect was the daughter of one of THRUSH's most dangerous chiefs.

"Esperanza? Por qué lo hiciste?" Buck needed to hear it from her.

"Por qué? Because I love her too mi esposo." That was it, she had nothing more to offer him by way of explanation. Did she regret it? Perhaps. Did THRUSH mean more to her than her daughter, more than Buck?

"And is this what you truly want Esperanza? Is THRUSH the life you choose, over Samantha and me?" Buck still loved his wife, still wanted a life with her if she could only denounce the Hierarchy and leave it behind, as he wanted to do. For Samantha's sake, could they still have a life together? Napoleon saw that more time was needed for this family to sort its affairs, so indicated to the couple to get aboard the jet to give them some privacy.

The UNCLE agents waited. Samantha sat in the limousine with Illya , her tutor and friend. April sat with them, hoping for the girl's sake that this story could have a happy ending.

Mark and Napoleon were discussing the next destination. Yuma was the just across the border from Mexico, and from there Buck would need to chart his course.

After an hour inside the jet, Esperanza and Buck emerged. Samantha slid out of the car and went to them, clutching them both with a grip so hard it seemed to meld them into one figure. Esperanza repented of her intentions to assassinate Buck. The environs of THRUSH made people do things that were unthinkable, and seeking her own father's approval had engendered a type of insanity from which she could only hope to emerge as a sane, loving woman.

Buck could forgive her, he understood as only one who had been part of THRUSH could. He loved Esperanza, and believed that she loved him. They had regrets, and life would probably not ever be normal, but they could be together. Hopefully, they could guarantee that Samantha lived a life completely free of the influence of THRUSH.

They tried to explain it to the UNCLE agents, all of whom marveled that a couple could come back from such egregious behavior. Illya thought he did grasp both the complexities and emotion of escaping a totalitarian mindset. THRUSH was not unlike the Kremlin in many respects.

"So, we will fly to Yuma and then…?" Napoleon wondered about Buck's many assets, his homes in so many locations. Would they live in one of those?

Buck was appreciative of how he had been treated, rescued even, by these agents. UNCLE had been kinder to him than he deserved perhaps, but the information he provided to them about THRUSH operations would now be augmented by what Esperanza could give them concerning her father's organization. She had to choose between her loyalty to Alberto Gutierrez and her love for Buck and Samantha.

"You will understand if we do not reveal our intentions, it would not be safe for you or us. We will find our way to safety, I assure you." Buck had a plan, but he would not share it, not even with these new friends.

"I understand. So, to Yuma?" Napoleon's didn't really understand, but he believed that the couple were sincere.

When everyone was aboard the jet, they headed for the town that would be a gateway to the future for the Darrow family. Against all odds, and in spite of what might have been a tragic end to things, Esperanza and Buck would make their peace and save their family. Samantha was nestled between her parents for the trip, once again happy and confident about the future.

Yuma was waiting for them, but it had company.


	26. Chapter 26: Zurich, Switzerland

The sleek UNCLE jet touched down onto a private airfield just outside of Yuma. The surrounding desert stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated by the iconic Saguaro cactus that dotted the landscape. As the jet taxied to a full stop the passengers were unbuckling seat belts and considering their next step.

"Do you know where you will go now Buck?" Napoleon had requested the presence of several Section III agents on the ground, not wanting to take a chance on THRUSH sending their own people to intercept the Darrow family.

Buck was thoughtful as he considered his answer. UNCLE had been on this journey with him, and he owed them a great deal. In the beginning he had hoped to merely end the pursuit, to make a sort of peace with Alexander Waverly and his Command. But now, after everything that had happened, he felt an affinity with the organization and its agents.

"I cannot begin to thank you and Illya for the help you so generously offered to me and my family. The journey has been long, and my gratitude seems inadequate.' He paused to look around the cabin of the plane, and seeing the smile on his wife's face he continued.

"Esperanza and I have made arrangements to depart from Yuma, from your protection. We will take our daughter someplace far enough away from all of this that starting a new life should be easier, and make us less of a target." Napoleon understood, and he wouldn't ask where it was they were going.

"I see another jet coming out of the hangar." Illya had been watching out of a window facing two large hangars alongside the runway. His first instinct was to assume it was a THRUSH jet, that an ambush was imminent.

Buck saw it as well, recognizing it as his own.

"It's mine Illya, I arranged for it to be here. And I also was able to contact TC, he's onboard and ready to accompany my family and me to our new home." Napoleon and Illya exchanged looks that spoke of caution, regardless of Buck's confidence.

"Are you sure? We will want to get onboard and check it out for you." Napoleon was emphatic, he hadn't come this far with Buck Darrow only to let THRUSH take him down on this last leg of the journey.

"I agree, we should be vigilant always. But I am not worried anymore." The tone of his voice changed as he said the last sentence. Illya and Napoleon instantly wondered what had happened to let Buck be so certain that his father-in-law was no longer a problem.

It would be several months before Buck could confront Esperanza with the truth about her father's fate. Once safe in Zurich, Switzerland, the family living with an ease they had never known before, Buck was able to explain why it was that Alberto Gutierrez had never tracked them down.

Esperanza would mourn her father's fate, but in exchange for her own family's safety she was able to make peace with what Buck had done. While they had been en route to Yuma so many months ago, a team of Buck's men who were still loyal to him had laid siege to the fortress where Gutierrez did THRUSH business, taking control of it and its master. Alexander Waverly personally orchestrated the operation, and was on hand to take Alberto into custody before he was transported to the infamous Tartarus, where he would remain for the rest of his life.

Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin were made aware of the secret attack on Gutierrez after returning to New York. They had made their farewells and watched as Buck, Esperanza and Samantha took flight towards a new life that would be free of THRUSH, of Gutierrez and the years of separation they had endured.

The journey to freedom had been long and fraught with danger. The future however would be bright and full of promise. Their life in Zurich would be as sweet and fulfilling for them as Texas had been a life of caution and strategies for their safety. Esperanza and Buck would have one more child, a son whom they would call Ian, in honor of Illya, Alexander and Napoleon.

Life would go on, and while the memory of the summer spent traveling with Buck Darrow would often come up in the minds of both Illya and Napoleon, it would be many years before the men from UNCLE would come across the Darrow family again.

 **M**

 **F**

 **U**

***Tartarus is the mythical dungeon of hell, and was first suggested as the name of a prison location utilized by UNCLE for the worst offenders, in a story by Gina Martin, aka GM.


End file.
